A Rock And A Hard Place
by wolverette
Summary: Wolverine and Rogue are now an item but, for one of them, this new relationship is only the start of the nightmare. Love, despair, torture and betrayal awaits the unwary X-Man. Rated for sexual content, death and violence.
1. The Promise In Her Eyes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Wolverine or Rogue - dammit! In my dreams though, Wolvie is all mine! Mine, I tell you!

Hey everyone! Welcome to my second Rogan! Yes, thanks to Comic-cake and her original challenge I have now caught the bug! This short story is affectionately dedicated to both Comic-cake and moviemom44 for all their encouragement, support and friendship!

I originally wrote this as a one-shot, but suddenly realised that I had the most wonderful cliffie! Sorry, guys, but I do enjoy teasing you all with the cliff-hangers! Heh heh! However, the story is fully written and the second chapter will be uploaded as soon as I've tapped it in to the lap-top!

As with my previous Rogan, Marie is in her early twenties, never took the cure, and the Professor is still very much alive! The story is rated M for a reason, guys! Hope y'all enjoy!

**ooXoo**

**A Rock And A Hard Place**

**1. The Promise In Her Eyes **

I know it's her the second she opens my door, her soft scent slidin' into my consciousness an' wakin' me instantly from my thankfully dreamless sleep. I lie still as she hesitates in the doorway, the faint light from the single lamp left on in the hallway outlinin' her perfect body as she stands with one hand still on the door handle, the other twinin' a lock of dark hair uncertainly between her fingers. With my enhanced eyesight, I can see her as plain as day, but my room is dark an' I realise she can't see _me_ – she can't see if I'm awake.

I roll onto my back, sighin' softly an' tryin' to sound as though I've just roused. She takes a single step closer.

"Logan?"

Her voice is soft an' shakes slightly. She's nervous. An' the thought that she's standin' there, feelin' that way, excites me all to hell.

I've known this moment would come since the day she finally found the trigger to turn her powers off. The day she finally held on to the Professor's hand for ten whole minutes without drainin' him dry. As she announced her achievement to the excited students at dinner that evening', I could feel her intent as her gaze slid across the room to lock on to mine, an' my heart missed the proverbial beat. _Soon,_ those eyes promised me. _We'll be together soon._

All those weeks of watchin' - of waitin' for her - have taken their toll. There have been nights when I've hardly slept at all for lyin' awake an' listenin' for her footfall outside my door. An' there have been nights when she would come to me in my dreams. I guess those nights were the worst. You'd think I'd be used to wakin' with a poundin' heart an' a howl in my throat. Nightmares. At least I don't have _those _dreams any more. Not since the promise appeared in Marie's eyes.

If the nights were bad, the days have been infinitely worse. All those hours o' Marie tryin' to find new an' inventive ways of remindin' me that I haven't been forgotten – the 'accidental' brush of our bodies as we pass in the hallway, a sensual finger lingerin' on mine as somethin' is passed to me, a hand on my thigh under the dinner table. An' all the time her eyes watchin' me. Promisin'. _Soon ……_

As if I_ could _forget. Dreams. _Ah, shit!_

Tonight, it's different. Tonight is no dream. That she's here now, standin' in my room, means that she's finally found the control needed to turn her power on an' off at will. She's come to fulfil her promise. A ragged sigh escapes my lips at the thought of the pleasures soon to come an' she takes another step.

"Logan?"

"I'm here, Marie."

I hear the undisguised lust in my own voice an' I struggle to control my emotions as she closes the door, softly. My eyes follow her as she pads slowly to the bed an' I hitch over to give her room as she climbs in beside me, her hair fannin' out over the pillow as she snuggles under the covers. My heart-rate immediately goes into overdrive an' my hands ache to touch her, to finally have her soft flesh beneath my fingers, an' I moan softly before I can stop myself. I can feel her eyes on me in the darkness an' my heart almost stops as she reaches out to touch my arm.

"Logan? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Marie." I pray she can't hear the strain in my voice. God Almighty, to finally have her here in my bed like this …… It's takin' every ounce of my self control to just lie here an' not force myself on her. The hand on my arm feels like it's burnin' into my flesh an' I can't think straight . ….. I'm gettin' hard. Jesus, can she hear my heart poundin' …… ?

She wriggles closer an' her hand slips over onto my chest, her fingers cool against my heated skin. My heart is poundin' like a drum – she's bound to feel it now, under her fingers. She hesitates a moment an' I can almost hear her thinkin'. When she speaks her voice is soft, hesitant …… gentle ……

"Ah've waited a long time for this, Logan." _Oh Jesus, so have I, Marie. _"Ah know ya want me." _Ya don't know how much, darlin'. _"And ah want you too, Logan. Tonight. Now." _Jus' shut the hell up an' kiss me, darlin' before I go crazy._

I can feel her leanin' closer an' I roll over onto my side to face her, banishin' the remainin' inches between us. I groan softly as her lips touch mine for the first time, her virgin kiss hesitant and inexperienced. My hand finds its way to her hip and rests there – her bare hip, I realise with a sudden jolt of clarity. She's wearin' a baby doll nightie which must have ridden up when she snuggled under the covers, an' my hand is touchin' bare flesh. Marie's bare flesh. Oh dear lord, give me strength ……

She gasps as I lean into her an' deepen the kiss, crushin' my lips to hers an' runnin' my tongue along her lower lip to get her to part them for me. She's inexperienced. She doesn't know what I want. An' so I nip her lip sharply with my teeth an', when she parts them in shock, I plunge my tongue into her mouth, plunderin' her from within an' savourin' my first sweet taste of her. Christ, how she ignites my senses! She's like a drug. I can't get enough.

Her hands are in my hair an' they feel so good. I groan against her mouth an' my heart jumps as her tongue nudges mine, the two slidin' together as she gets bolder. I push her gently onto her back an' she goes willingly, her body archin' upwards as my hand moves steadily northwards an' then it's _her_ turn to moan as I cup her breast. I tweak her nipple with my fingers an' she writhes in pleasure as I tease it to a hard peak, breakin' the kiss to breathe my name. "Oh …… oh, _Logan ……"_

Her breathy exclamation excites me like never before. Christ, I can't get enough o' this woman. I need her …… _want _her.

I lean over her, pinnin' her down with my considerable weight as my lips crash down onto hers once more, devourin' her feverishly. Her arms go around my neck, pullin' me into her, her fingers diggin' into my shoulders and sendin' shudders of pleasure ripplin' through me. I can feel my feral side fightin' me now …… _take her, she's yours, she wants you…… _But I can't give in. I won't. This is _my _moment. It belongs to me. Not to the beast.

My hand abandons her breast reluctantly and trails sensually down her ribcage as my brain tells me there are further pleasures awaitin' to be found. Her thigh is soft beneath my hand as I nudge it gently aside an' her breath catches as she realises my intent. When I cup the delicate mound between her legs, we both groan in unison.

Oh Christ, she's so wet! The realisation is like a spear through my chest an' I pull back from her lips, only to fasten my teeth onto the soft flesh at the base of her neck, growling against her skin as I lathe it with my tongue. Her hips are movin' – undulatin' against my hand as I finger her wet folds an' her eyes are closed, her lips slightly parted as she makes soft little mewlin' noises that set my head spinnin'. "Oh yes, Logan …… oh_ yes ……"_

I'm so hard now that it hurts physically and I grind my erection against her thigh, achin' for release. Her eyes widen with the sudden realisation that I'm stark naked and that there is nothin' between her and my throbbin' manhood.

I honestly can't remember when it happened – or how – but suddenly I can't control myself any longer. The feel of her wet folds beneath my fingers, her increasingly heated moans an' the scent of her arousal tips me over the edge an' I lose myself completely in my lust an' the sensation of havin' her beneath me. The feral growl that rumbles in my chest is more animal than man, but I'm too far gone to notice.

I push her legs roughly apart an' position myself between them, graspin' my cock firmly in my hand an' groanin' at the sight of her glistenin' folds waitin' to embrace me. I'm shakin' so hard with the thought of enterin' her that I can hardly hold myself steady an' a bead of moisture forms at the tip of my cock, makin' me crazy with lust.

I've gotta take her. _I've gotta take her now!_

Her eyes widen and she clutches at my shoulders as I hover over her. "Logan? Logan, what …… what are you doing?"

"What's it look like, babe?" My throat is dry an' my voice comes out as a raspin' growl. "I'm gonna fuck ya senseless."

"Logan, no. I'm …… I'm not ready." She swallows audibly an' pushes ineffectually at my chest an' shoulders, tryin' to force me back. Her scent has changed. She's scared now, but the thought of plungin' my cock into that heavenly wet core has stolen all reason. "Logan, please no. Not yet."

"What's the matter, babe? Isn't this what you've always dreamed of?" I inch forward an' my cock nudges against her folds. I close my eyes, rubbin' the head against her an' I huff a ragged breath as I imagine her heat enfoldin' me. Dimly, I am aware that she is whimperin' an' tryin' to push herself back. What's the matter with her? "Isn't this what you've always wanted, Marie? To be screwed by the Wolverine? To have me howl your name as I come deep inside you?"

"_Oh god!_ Logan, please _no!"_

I'm too far gone to listen. The beast inside me has taken over an' it wants its woman. I draw my lips back in a feral snarl as I force the head of my cock inside her, heedless of her frightened whimpers. "Oh _Christ,_ Marie, this is gonna feel so good ……"

I pull back, ready for another thrust, intendin' to bury myself deep inside her ……

…… an' her hands clamp firmly to the side of my face as she triggers the switch to turn on her power ……

**ooXoo**

**NEXT: **Will Logan ever be able to make amends for what he has done? And was it all _his_ fault anyway?


	2. The Marks On My Heart

Hey, everyone! Welcome to chapter two! And what a bagful of controversy I earned with chapter one! If nothing else, I seem to have split my readers well and truly into two camps - those who love the new Dark Logan, and those who hate him! To be honest, it wasn't my intention to create a Dark Logan at all but, now that he's here, he may be making a return appearance in future chapters!

Future chapters, you say? I thought this was a one-shot? Well, yes, it was originally intended to be a one-shot, but since I posted the last chapter, I've had heaps of ideas all clamouring for attention in my brain and they cannot be denied! So A Rock and a Hard Place is now a full length story! Set your alerts, because with dark and violent dealings ahead, this is going to be a bumpy ride!

Many thanks to all those who reviewed chapter one - **moviemom44, Comic-cake **(thanks for your support and friendship, guys! Without you, this story would not have been possible!) **Laudine, Sarra Ambrai, MidLifeCrisis, **(which just goes to show I can't please all of the people all of the time!) **Ren-stranger **and **Jedi Ditz!** Your input is much appreciated - without you I am bereft!

Enough waffling from me! Onward ...... !

**ooXoo**

**2. The Marks On My Heart**

When I wake, I'm lyin' alone in the middle of the bed, the sheets tangled around my legs. I roll over with a groan, my head poundin' as my healin' factor struggles to throw off the effects of Rogue's power.

An' just like that, I remember what I've done.

"Oh, shit! _Shit!_ Marie!"

I tumble from the bed an' slam my fist into the wardrobe door, welcoming the pain this brings me and leavin' a fair sized dent in the door. Two more hits later, an' the door is a splintered ruin. Blood runs from my knuckles, but the cuts heal over instantly, leavin' nothin' but a dull ache in their wake. I throw my head back an' howl_. Oh god! What have I done?_

An annoyed shout from Scott's room next door, an' the sound of a book hittin' the wall, jolts me back to my senses. _Marie!_ I have to put this right.

I grab my jeans from the end of the bed, draggin' them on as I hop towards the door. There's no time for further clothin' an' I fling my door open, lettin' it bang on the wall behind me as I stride barefoot out into the hallway, scentin' the air for Marie. Her trail leads, not back to her room, but down to the main floor and towards the front door.

I hesitate on the porch, lookin' out across the immaculately kept lawns, an' her scent draws me, sweet and yet laced with the unmistakable tang of fear. Even when she was trapped in Magneto's machine she didn't smell like this an' I curse myself for what I've done to her. I took somethin' innocent an' pure an' I twisted it into somethin' lewd an' dirty. I'll never be able to forgive myself for that. How can I ever hope Marie will?

I set off at a jog across the grounds, her scent leadin' me across the Japanese garden an' out towards the lake. Figures. She's always loved the lake with its quiet solitude. That she's gone there now only serves to emphasise her state of mind.

I find her standin' under her favourite tree near the boathouse, her arms held tight around her, as though huggin' herself for the comfort. She is gazin' out across the lake, watchin' the play of moonlight on the water but, as I step nearer, she hears me an' turns in my direction.

I immediately stop, holdin' out my hands in placation.

"I'm so sorry," we both say at exactly the same moment.

I move forward slowly an' join her under the tree. For once, I am lost for words an' I stand beside her silently, starin' out over the lake. What the hell could I say that would ever put things right between us?

For both our sakes, I have to try an' find somethin'.

"Marie ……" I begin, but she raises a hand an' cuts me off.

"Don't say anything, Logan." Her voice is hard, nothin' like the soft Southern tones I have come to know an' love. "Ah'm sorry for using my power on you, but you …… you hurt me, Logan. You …… scared me."

Her words cut me straight to the heart and I hang my head in shame. "I'm …… I'm truly sorry, Marie. I guess I should go."

I turn to walk away, but her hand on my arm stops me. "Wait, Logan. What …… what happened back there?"

I remain standin' with my back to her, unable to look her in the eye. "I …… I lost control, Marie. You saw what happened. I let the beast inside me take over an' I …… I almost raped you."

"You didn't rape me, Logan." Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, an' it's torture to my soul. "Ah came to your room tonight because ah wanted you. And heaven help me, ah …… ah still do."

I turn to face her, my expression one of incredulous disbelief. "I …… what the hell did ya just say, Marie?"

"I said, ah want you, Logan. Always have. Always will."

My head is spinnin'. "But how can you? After what I did …… ?"

She reaches out to take my hand, sendin' a jolt rushin' through me. "Why did you do it, Logan? Why did you lose control?"

"Because I'm an animal!" I pull my hand from hers an' turn away, but she grasps my arm an' drags me back.

"No, that's not the reason, Logan. Why did you lose control? What made the Wolverine take over? _Tell me!"_

"Because I want you, Marie!" My voice is harsher that I meant it to be an' she takes a step back in surprise. "I want you so much it fuckin' hurts! An' when ya came ta me tonight, sayin' ya wanted me too an' smellin' like ya did, I ……" I drag my hand through my hair, lookin' around me wildly, tryin' to avoid this but knowin' she'll never understand unless I tell her. "Dammit, Marie, why can't ya see that I love you?"

There. The words are out now. I've said my piece an' I'm just gonna have to live with the consequences of it. An' whether she can ever come to love me back or not, at least she'll know the reason why I've always been there for her, protectin' her …… lovin' her from afar ……

But the floodgates have been opened an' there's no goin' back.

"Have ya any idea what ya do ta me, Marie? How ya scent drives me crazy whenever yer near? How I want ta touch ya …… ta hold ya an' make ya mine completely?" I'm pacin' now an' she's watchin' me, one hand coverin' her mouth in shock. "Do ya know what it's like ta be near someone every day an' not be able ta tell 'em how ya feel? Do you, Marie? 'Cause I do, an' it's drivin' me insane!" I turn, pinnin' her with a feral glare. "An' ya wonder why I lost control!"

I snap my mouth shut there, realising I've probably said too much as her eyes fill with tears, an' I turn away, disgusted with myself. Between one thing an' another, I've made a right royal cock-up of things tonight an' I've probably alienated the only true friend I've got in this entire madhouse into the bargain. Chuck would be proud of me. He took me in thinkin' I could make somethin' o' myself by workin' with the kids an' I can't even be trusted around them. The irony makes me snort in morbid amusement.

I can hear Marie snifflin' behind me, but I can't bring myself to turn around. I've hurt her. Again. It's probably best for both of us if I put some distance between us right now.

I'm about to do what I do best an' storm off to relieve some tension in the Danger Room when Marie steps up behind me. "Logan, ah'm …… ah'm so sorry." Well, that's the last thing I expected her to say. "Ah never once thought about what ah was doing to you all this time. It was all new to me – to finally be able to look forward to touching someone. Ah never once thought that you …… Oh god, Logan, ah've led you on so badly! Flirted with you. Played with your feelings. Came to your bed and tried to seduce you, never once thinking how that would make you feel. Ah was so wrong, Logan. Ah can see that now."

"Marie, don't." I reach for her an' then drop my hands with a resigned sigh. After what I've done she probably doesn't want me to touch her right now. Probably never again. "Don't try to take the blame fer this. I lost control. It was my fault."

"No, Logan, it wasn't. It was _our _fault." Marie smiles hesitantly an' it's a beautiful sight. My heart leaps in hope. "It was six of one and half a dozen of the other. It couldn't be helped."

"Marie, what the hell are ya tryin' ta say?"

"What ah'm sayin' is, that we should forget that this happened and start again." She pauses an' looks out over the water, her silhouette so beautiful to me in the moonlight. "When you said those words to me …… said that you loved me, ah didn't expect that. Not from you. Ah came to you tonight expecting you to view me as a one night stand. A …… a quick fuck." Her voice breaks. "But ah was willing to deal with that just so ah could be with you. Even if it was just once. Because ah ……" She turns back to me, her eyes shining, wet with tears. "Because ah love you, Logan. Ah've loved you since the day you came to my rescue on that deserted highway in Canada. An' when you almost died for me on the Statue of Liberty, ah loved you even more."

"Christ, Marie!" She bursts into tears then, an' I reach for her, pulling her into my arms. She comes willingly, sobbin' bitterly against my shoulder, an' I rub her back an' stroke her hair, all the time makin' soothin' noises an' whisperin' meaningless words. I haven't the faintest idea what I'm sayin' – calmin' distraught females ain't my forte after all – but somethin' seems to work an' her sobs gradually quieten an' her sniffles subside as she gets herself back under control.

"Shit, Logan, ah'm so sorry. Ah didn't mean to cry all over you like that." She pulls back slightly, wipin' her eyes with the back of her hand, an' I let her go. It's the last thing I want to do. She feels so good in my arms an' I want to hold her an' caress her. But it's thoughts like that that got me into trouble in the first place an' I reluctantly allow her to draw away as she dries her tears, leavin' my hands restin' lightly on her shoulders. No matter how hard I try, I can't break contact completely.

"Ah came to you tonight, Logan, fully intending to let you make love to me." When she begins to speak her voice is soft, almost a whisper. If not for my enhanced hearin' I doubt I'd be able to hear her above the sound o' the water lappin' against the bank. "But when you began to push into me, I panicked. Ah was no longer in control of my own body an' that scared me. So ah …… ah touched you ……."

"Christ, Marie, don't!" My hands tighten on her shoulders. "Don't relive it, darlin'. I …… I'm sorry. I shoulda listened ta ya."

"No, Logan, you don't understand. Ah wasn't ready then." Her eyes capture mine as she takes my hands and places them around her waist. "But ah'm ready now."

She leans in closer, pressin' her body to mine as she tilts her head to look up at me. An' all I can see are her full luscious lips invitin' me in.

I shake my head. "No, Marie, I …… I can't." I shudder at the memory of her anguished cries an' pull back, but she follows, touchin' her lips gently to mine. "Kiss me," she whispers, an' my world explodes, sending me spiralling down a path I thought never to walk. Breathin' her name, I allow our lips to touch.

The kiss is everythin' the first one wasn't – soft yet urgent, gentle yet demandin'. Her arms come up to wrap around my neck as I gently cup the back of her neck an' I sigh softly against her mouth at the feel of her hot breasts pressin' into my chest through the silky material of her nightie.

I pull back an' drop little butterfly kisses along the curve of her neck to her shoulder, hearin' her sigh delicately in response to the touch of my lips. When I reach the shoe-string strap of her nightie I slowly nudge it off her shoulder an' kiss the place where it rested. My movements are slow an' calculated. I don't want to frighten her an' I certainly don't want to lose control. But the beast is locked safely away behind the bars of its prison an' I have no intention o' lettin' it go free again. It howls at me, beats against the confines of its prison, but I'm not listenin'. I'm listenin' instead to the arousin' sighs of the woman in my arms.

I return to her mouth to kiss her again, our lips growing more urgent as they slide together. Desperate for more, I nudge my tongue against her lower lip, seekin' entrance. After a moment's hesitation, they part an' I tilt my head an' deepen the kiss, gently explorin' her mouth as she moans against me.

My free hand drifts down her neck to her shoulder an' I nudge the remainin' strap away, my fingers tracin' little circles on her skin as our tongues slowly slide together in a sensual dance. Her little nightie is held up only by the press of our bodies now an' I growl softly in warnin' as she suddenly steps away from me, only for that growl to die in my throat as she gives a little shimmy an' allows the flimsy coverin' to fall to the ground at her feet. My heart's poundin' in my chest as she stands before me, the soft moonlight highlightin' those gentle curves o' hers to perfection an' I know that, whatever else happens in the craziness I call my life I will never see a sight more beautiful than this.

Her scent changes. She's nervous, unsure of herself an' how I'll react, but she's also aroused – determined even – an' before she can react I pull her back to me, capturin' her mouth in a searin' kiss an' slowly an' ever so gently lowerin' her down to the ground where I lie beside her in the sweet scented grass.

I take my time explorin' her, getting' to know the curves that, up until now, I have only dreamed about. She responds to my touch with a careless abandon, writhin' under my hands as I stroke her body. When she arcs into my touch with a lustful cry, thrustin' her breasts skyward, I lower myself down an' suck her nipple into my mouth, teasin' with my teeth an' lathin' with my tongue. She moans my name an' fists her little hands into my hair, heedless o' the fact that she is drivin' me crazy.

My free hand drifts lower an' lower, skimmin' across the perfect expanse of her stomach an' pausin' to dip into her belly button, before headin' further south. Her legs fall obligingly open as I reach her dark mound an' I hesitate, reluctant to continue for fear o' scarin' her. But her hand suddenly covers mine, urgin' it downwards, an' her voice whispers breathily in my ear.

"Please, Logan …… oh god …… _please ……_"

I'm only too pleased to do her biddin' an' I drop my hand lower to cup the delicate flesh between her legs. Her moans intensify an' she rocks her hips against my hand, releasin' my hair to grab a fistful o' grass. Entranced, I sit up so that I can see her face as I slowly an' firmly push my finger into her hot core.

She goes wild, her lithe body writhin' like a snake as I slowly withdraw an' push back in. Her eyes are closed an' she bites down on her lower lip as if to muffle the cries that are wellin' up in her throat. When I add a second finger she makes a grab for my hair, draggin' me down to where she can reach my lips with her own, devourin' them mercilessly an' pantin' against my mouth.

_Jesus Christ, I gotta get out o' these jeans! _I'm so hard that I'm in danger o' doin' myself an injury an' somehow I manage to get my free hand around an' down so that I can undo the button an' unzip my fly. My cock springs out, hugely erect an' ready for action. Bein' released from the confines o' my pants does nothin' to calm the ache for release, but the cool night air eases the throbbin' heat somewhat.

Marie is pantin' an' cryin' between kisses now an' I realise she is very near her climax. I pump my fingers faster, openin' them a little wider, an' her hands tighten in my hair, almost pullin' clumps out by the roots. Her body jerks beneath my hands as her climax builds an' I suck in a breath as she bites down hard on my lip, lost in the throes of her passion. I pull away, takin' myself out of reach of her teeth as my own blood pools in my mouth, an' then suddenly she cries out, archin' upwards, her inner muscles grippin' my fingers as her orgasm hits.

Watchin' her face as she rides the pleasure of her orgasm does nothin' for my own throbbin' desire, an' I groan in frustration, wantin' nothin' more than to bury myself in those soft folds an' feel those inner muscles grip my cock the way they're grippin' my fingers. As her shudders subside, I pull my fingers out an' stand up to remove my jeans fully, kickin' them away from me, heedless of where they land. As I lie back down beside her I notice her eyes, big an' wide in the moonlight an', before I can react, she reaches out an' takes my cock in her hand ……

"Oh _Christ …… Marie ……!"_ Words fail me an' my brain shuts down all higher motor functions as her fingers slide down my length, incitin' a long groan of lustful ecstasy to rumble in my throat. Somehow I end up on my hands an' knees straddlin' her as she lays on her back, puttin' me in the perfect position for her to stroke an' caress me. When her other hand slips under the radar to squeeze my balls I almost jerk outta her grasp.

"Y'like that?" Her sultry purr somehow manages to invade my pleasure fogged brain an' I nod, languidly. "Oh shit, _yeah_ …… Don't stop, baby …… _Don't stop_ ……"

She doesn't, an' I sigh as her hands continue to move up an' down my length, sendin' me to places I haven't been in a long time. _God Almighty, does this woman realise what_ _she's doin' ta me?_ My breath grows increasingly ragged as she begins to settle into a steady strokin' rhythm an' when her thumb trails across the glossy head at the apex of her stroke I arch my back, bitin' back a wicked curse. Jesus, I would let this woman do anythin' she wanted if this feelin' could go on forever. If she wants my claws for letter openers, I'll cut 'em out an' give 'em to her myself.

When I start to thrust into her hand, I realise I'm close. As much as I'm aching for release, when I come I wanna come inside her, not all over her. So I cover her hands with one o' mine, tryin' to look reassurin' as I look back into her trustin' green eyes.

"Marie, honey, I need …… I need ta come, okay? But not like this. I wanna be inside you ……"

She's quiet for a moment an' I'm actually resignin' myself to havin' to finish off the job myself just to get some relief, when she nods. "Yes," she whispers, breathily. "Ah'm ready for you. Logan."

"Oh, baby!" I lower myself down an' capture her lips in a crushin' kiss. "I love ya so much, babe!"

I quickly change position, gently partin' her legs so that I can settle between them. My breath catches in my throat when I see how wet she still is from her climax an' I can't wait to feel that wetness around me.

Her face clouds momentarily as her eyes lower to take in the size of my erection an' I pause. I don't want to take her if she's not willin'. Not this time.

"Will it hurt?" she asks, finally, her voice shakin' with the anxiety she is so obviously feelin'.

I can't lie to her. "It'll hurt, babe," I confirm, honestly. "But I'll try to make it quick, okay?"

I reach out to press my hand to her cheek an' she tilts her head to kiss my palm in a gesture both lovin' an' touchin'. An' I know in that moment that, once this is over, I will never hurt this woman again.

I take my cock in my hand, grunting as even my own touch makes it jerk with anticipation. I have never been this big, this hard, for anyone – ever. My balls are so swollen that I feel as though they're gonna explode. I'm actually feelin' kinda pleased with myself. I only hope Marie appreciates the sentiment.

I nudge the head of my cock against her wetness, sighin' at the delirious feelin' even this tentative contact invokes. I position myself carefully, keepin' my eyes fixed on Marie's the whole time. If she changes her mind, I wanna know instantly, before I go too far to stop myself.

She's nervous, understandably, an' she's bitin' on her lower lip as though to brace herself for what is about to come. But she gives me a reassurin' nod.

With a smooth jerk, I push my cock into her.

She immediately tenses at the intrusion an' her muscles clamp down on me so tightly that I almost come, right there an' then.

"Shit, Marie! Ease off a bit, will ya?"

"Tryin'," she hisses, through gritted teeth. "You're too big ……"

I cut off the rest of her words as I press my lips to hers, slidin' my tongue into her mouth as she immediately grants me entrance. My hands caress her body in long sweepin' strokes, up along her ribcage, across her shoulders an' down to her breasts, where I concentrate on teasin' her nipples into hard little peaks. I'm tryin' to get her to relax, to forget that my cock is knockin' at the door, waitin' to plunge deep inside her. Somethin' seems to work. She arches beneath me, pushin' her breasts into my hands with a languid sigh that tastes sweet in my mouth – an' I thrust forward once more.

I get further this time, but I can sense that I am now against her barrier an' before either of us can have second thoughts on this, I pull back an' surge forward with all the power I can muster.

She cries into my mouth, shudderin' violently beneath me as I sheath myself fully in her seethin' core. I break the kiss, restin' my forehead against hers, pantin' heavily at the new an' excitin' sensations that are assaultin' my brain. _Oh god, I'm in. I'm finally in._

"Jesus!" Marie regains control of her voice. Her hands rest on my shoulders, pushin' me back slightly so that she can look into my eyes. "Are you …… ?"

I smile back at her, givin' her a rare glimpse of my impressive canines. "Yeah, darlin', I am." I place my hands in the grass beside her head an' push up. Her gaze travels down my bare chest to where our bodies are intimately joined. An' bless 'er, she blushes. "Oh …… oh, _Logan!"_

"Are ya okay with this?" I ask, suddenly concerned. "Am I hurtin' ya?"

"No!" she hastens to assure me. "I mean, there_ was_ pain, lots of it, but it's just a numb ache now." She gives an experimental wiggle an' I growl at the feelings that suddenly rush at me from my nether regions. "Ah can _feel_ you, Logan. _Inside _me. You feel …… wonderful ……"

"There are better things ta come, darlin'," I boast, an' pull out almost ta the head ta begin our love-makin' in earnest.

I do my best to make her first time somethin' memorable. Temperin' my desire to come quick n' hard, I settle into a slow, easy rhythm, growlin' in approval when Marie learns quickly an' matches it. Her core is tight an' hot, grippin' my cock like it never wants to let go, an' my breath comes in ragged gasps each time I surge into her. Pretty soon I am thrustin' into her as though my life depends on it, a constant growl rumblin' in my chest as Marie writhes beneath me, scratchin' furrows in my back with her long fingernails.

_OH, Jesus, what this woman does ta me!_ I have never experienced anythin' like this an' I am fairly sure I have fucked a lot of women in my life. But to use that word to describe what I am feelin' while I move inside Marie would be to cheapen the whole experience – make it somethin' meaningless an' tawdry. This is nothin' like that – this is the kind of love-makin' that only occurs between two people who have given their heart an' soul to each other unconditionally. This is heaven made manifest – a joinin' of kindred spirits.

Honestly, I'm surprised I can't hear angels singin' ……

Marie is close now, I can sense it – smell it. Encouraged by her heated moans, I thrust faster, groanin' right along with her as my own climax builds. Slippin' my hands beneath her hips, I tilt them upwards, allowin' me to penetrate deeper. My ears are filled with the sound of her frenzied cries for release.

"Marie …… oh _god,_ baby …… come fer me, darlin' …… I wanna hear ya scream……"

Her second orgasm of the night hits with all the subtlety of an earthquake, shudderin' through her body an' forcin' my name from her lips in a cry of unrestrained ecstasy. She arches beneath me, her inner muscles clampin' down on my cock with such intensity that, for a moment, sparks flash at the edge of my vision.

"_Jesus,_ Marie, I'm …… Shit, I'm _comin' …… !"_

I crash over the edge of my own climax, growlin' like a madman as the urge to come overtakes me. Searin' heat surges up an' along my cock like molten lava and, as I begin to release deep into the body of my lover, I throw my head back an' howl my conquest to the moon.

Still comin' in wave after glorious wave, totally delirious with the force of my release, I clamp my teeth to the soft, fleshy skin at the base of Marie's neck. Suckin' once, twice to bring the blood to the surface, I bite down, brutally, oblivious to my lover's startled gasp.

An' just like that, I mark her as mine.

**oooOOOooo**

The sky is just beginnin' to lighten with the comin' o' dawn by the time we finally stir from the sleepy embrace we fell into followin' our love-makin'. I am still inside her, still semi-hard surprisingly, considerin' the length o' time that has passed, but I pull out of her with some reluctance as she yawns an' blinks at me sleepily.

"Hey, Marie." I reach out to tuck a stray lock of white hair behind her ear an' she presses a kiss to my palm.

"Hey yourself, sugah." She sighs languidly an' looks around her with interest. "Did we really do what ah thought we did last night?"

"We sure did, darlin'. Twice."

"Wow." Her fingers go unerringly to the bite on her neck, touchin' it hesitantly, an' my heart sinks. "You bit me?"

"Er …… yeah, I did, Marie …… Look, about that …… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Ah kinda like it. It means ah'm yours." She smiles, reassuringly. "Maybe you could do one at the other side next time, so ah'd have a matchin' set?"

"Okay," I promise.

An' as simple as that, we establish ourselves as a couple.

We try to get dressed, but our nakedness proves somethin' of a distraction, to the extent that I end up takin' Marie again against the trunk of the tree we slept beneath.

Afterwards, walkin' back to the mansion with our hands entwined an' the sound o' awakenin' bird song accompanyin' us, Marie keeps fingerin' the mark on her neck an' I know that, by lunchtime, all the girls in the mansion will know about it. By tomorrow, rumours will be circulatin' – how a shy an' petite Southern Belle has tamed the bad-ass Wolverine.

Scooter will have a field day.

But, y'know what? I don't give a damn.

'Cause I love this girl, an' I'd do anythin' for her. She could put a collar around my neck an' lead me around on a chain an' if that's what they call bein' tamed, then so be it.

I may have marked her, but she's marked me too. Only _her _marks aren't anywhere on the surface where they can be seen. No, hers are on my heart, an' only I know they are there.

I will wear them proudly wherever I go. For her.

For Marie.

But if anybody makes an issue outta this, they'll end up wearin' a different set o' marks. An' I doubt they'll be as benign.

**NEXT: **The secret is out!


	3. No More Secrets

Hey, everyone! Welcome to chapter three! I've been typing like a mad woman all afternoon (Day off - hurrah!) in an effort to get two chapters finished - one for my Kristiverse, Shadows of a Dark Mind, and this one! Perish the thought if I get them muddled up while loading!

Huge thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Sarra Ambrai, Laudine, CB Shipper, MidLifeCrisis **and **Jedi Ditz! **Shiny reviews make me very happy!

No more waffle! On with the story!

**ooXoo**

**3.**** No More Secrets**

The rest o' the day passes quietly enough. Marie an' me both have grass stains in interestin' places, so we take a shower – in our own rooms, o' course. No point in rilin' the Prof any more than necessary. He's bound to hear o' our little tryst sooner or later, but it'd be nice to have a few days privacy, at least. Can't keep anythin' secret around here for long, especially if that mouthy friend o' Marie's gets to hear of it. What's her name now? Oh, yeah. Jubilee.

I have a self defence class with the older students in the Danger Room at nine sharp. Usually, workin' with the kids sets me all on edge, an' I haveta meditate for an hour or so afterwards, jus' to relax an' restore my balance. This session, however, I programme a simulation an' spend an enjoyable couple o' hours stalkin' 'em through the Amazon rainforest. It's a programme intended to hone their survival instincts an' it does wonders for my own self esteem, but somehow I don't think the students appreciate it much. Shadowcat looks traumatised – I was hidin' in the leaf mould beneath the half eaten carcass of a tiger when I took her out. I honestly don't have much sympathy – the clue couldn't have been more obvious. Tigers don't live in the Amazon.

An' Armor? Well, let's just say it'll be a long time before she feels safe enough to take a dip in our swimmin' pool again. Those Amazonian rivers can be real deep sometimes ….

I can almost taste the relief in the air when I dismiss the class an' send 'em for showers. Shit, I hope the Prof doesn't get wind o' this an' haul me over the coals for terrorisin' his trainees. But what the hell does he think is gonna happen to 'em out in the real world? Sabretooth sure as hell ain't gonna teach 'em how to knit.

Marie assists 'Ro with her classes now an' usually supervises the library durin' the lunch break, so I know I ain't likely to see Marie again till evenin'. I've got time to spare, so I hop on the bike an' take a trip into town, amusin' myself for a time in one o' the autoshops in the mall. I buy some sparkplugs for the jeep an' then mosey along to Harry's where I manage to waste at least three hours in blissful contemplation o' beer.

I head home when my stomach begins to rumble in protest of the liquid diet, parkin' the bike next to my open-top jeep in the garage as my mouth waters at the delicious aromas already driftin' through from the dinin' room. I drop the sparkplugs off in my room, change my shirt for appearances sake, an' make my way to the informal dinin' room.

The moment I enter, I know somethin's been said. The general hub-hub lessens an' eyes slide in my direction. Dammit, I hate bein' the center o' attention. With the hackles risin' on the back o' my neck, I help myself to a generous helpin' o' steak, fries an' veggies – more meat than veg, naturally. I am a predator when all's said an' done – an' head to my usual table at the far end o' the room, sittin' with my back to the wall so I can survey the room an' all exits. So I'm a cautious guy, even among friends. A life time spent with various folks tryin' to kill ya, tends to make ya nervous that way.

There's no sign o' Marie yet, so I attack my steak, tryin' to ignore the glances bein' sent in my direction. An' then the whisperin' starts.

"He's alone. Are you sure they're an item?"

"They say they did it in the woods. Out near the boathouse."

_Oh, yeah. Three times, no less._ I smirk at that.

"It was a full moon last night. D'ya think his canines get longer on a full moon?"

_Idiot._

"Who'd a' thought it? The bad-ass Wolverine, tamed – by a _girl."_

_Who said that? _When I find out who said that, they're gonna be real sorry come their next defence lesson. Nobody tames the Wolverine. Leastways, not so's I'd admit it, anyway.

An' then Marie enters. An' the room goes real quiet again, as all eyes swivel in her direction.

'Ro, Scooter an' Jeannie come in behind her, lookin' around in obvious bewilderment at the uncharacteristically silent dinin' room, but Marie pretends nothin' is amiss an' helps herself to a lady-like plate o' steak an' fries, makin' small talk with Jeannie as she moves in beside her. A growl rumbles in my chest as I take in the way she moves, the casual way she flicks a lock of dark hair over her shoulder an' I lower my head, takin' an intense interest in my steak.

There's a collective gasp from the room in general as she heads towards my table. I look up, watchin' her progress as she sways towards me.

"Hey, sugah," she greets me as she draws level with my table. "Can ah sit here?"

"Sure." My voice is rough an' I cough an' try again. "Sure." Better. "Pull up a chair."

There's an empty seat opposite, but she pulls out the one beside me an' sits down. Every student in the place is watchin' us now – little Rahne Sinclair's mouth is actually hanging open. No one has ever dared to sit next to the Wolverine before – it's somethin' of a taboo. Not to mention, a safety issue. If he gets wind of a scent he don't like, he's likely to go crazy an' spear ya with his claws. I snort. _As if!_

Jean an' 'Ro are eyeing us strangely now an' even Scott – not exactly the brightest firework in the box – has begun to suspect that somethin' is goin' on. This has gone on long enough. I aim a feral snarl at the nearest table to ours an' suddenly the mood is broken. Conversation miraculously breaks out again, an' Jean an' 'Ro, satisfied that nothin' is truly amiss, head for a table, draggin' Scott in their wake.

"Logan, behave." Marie giggles at me, then rolls her eyes as somethin' flutters to the floor between us. "Oops, dropped my napkin. Excuse me."

She pushes her chair back an' disappears under the table. I take a forkful o' steak – an' spit it right back out with a barkin' cough as a small hand wraps around the bulge in my pants an' squeezes.

Marie reappears from under the table, wavin' the napkin triumphantly. "Got it!" she cheers.

I fix her with my best intimidatin' scowl. "The hell ya doin', Marie? Ya tryin' ta get us both killed?"

"Lighten up, sugah!" She spears a fry an' takes a delicate bite. "Ah missed you today."

I've missed her, too, but I try not to let it show as I concentrate on my meal. Several of the students are watchin' us again an' I resist the urge to bend her over the table an' devour her lips with mine, just to give 'em a show.

Instead, I glance sideways at Marie, a feral grin tuggin' at my mouth. "Maybe I could stop by yer room later. Ya could show me how much ya've missed me."

Marie doesn't answer, but the hand restin' on my thigh under the table is hot with promise.

**oooOOOooo**

True to my word, I wait until the mansion falls quiet that night, before leavin' my room an' slippin' along the hallway to Marie's room. She's waitin' for me, wearin' another tiny little nightie, which quickly becomes nothin' at all as I strip it from her. Her tiny hands fiddlin' with the huge buckle on my jeans quickly inflames my desire an' I am fully erect by the time she unzips my fly. I kick my jeans across the room an' lower Marie to the softness of the bed, where we set about reacquaintin' ourselves with the intimacies of each other's bodies.

Considerin' that Marie has spent the last three years avoidin' bein' touched, she's certainly eager to make up for it now as she encourages me to explore every inch of her. I do so willingly, my hands and mouth bringin' her to a peak which she is only too happy to throw herself from. Her soft sighs an' moans stoke my own desire an' when she takes my hardened cock in her hands, fingers gently massagin' an' caressin' my length, my groans an' heated pleas for more are added to hers.

By the time I enter her, I am crazy with desire, spreadin' her legs wide so that I can take her deep. Our love-makin' is slow, but filled with the passionate sounds of two people who can't get enough of each other an' our groans compete for supremacy as our bodies move together in a sensual dance. By the time I come, I am thrustin' into her so hard that her teeth are clickin' together, but her cries join mine as the sensation of my hot come squirtin' into her beckons her own climax. Our bodies shudderin' in unison, I clamp my teeth to her neck an' fulfil my promise, givin' her a matchin' set o' feral marks.

I never once lose control.

But there _is _growlin'.

_A lot _of growlin'.

An', for some reason, that really seems to turn Marie on.

Afterwards, we lie together in a tangle of naked arms an' legs an' slowly drift off to sleep. For once, the nightmares stay away ……

**oooOOOooo**

It's at breakfast the next mornin' when the trouble really starts.

_***Logan, I'd like to see you in my study immediately, please***_

The Professor's telepathic summons echoes in my head an' I look at Marie over the top o' my black coffee. She immediately senses what has happened an' puts out a hand to pat my arm.

"It'll be okay," she whispers.

I abandon my coffee an' make my way along the hallway to Xavier's study, all the while feelin' the spectre o' the condemned hangin' over me. I have a hunch this confrontation is goin' to turn nasty, but I will not be bullied. Marie an' me have done nothin' wrong an' we have nothin' to be ashamed of. We love each other. What could be shamin' in that?

By the time I reach the study door, I have pretty much used up all my self control an' my temper is simmerin' just under the surface. It won't take much to set it off. I open the door without knockin' an' stride inside, straight away noticin' that Jean an' Scott are already present. They are sittin' in the room's only two chairs, forcin' me to stand before Xavier's desk like a naughty schoolboy called before the headmaster.

I glower at the Professor, wishin' I had a cigar so that I could bite on it.

The Professor regards me solemnly over a steeple made of his fingers. "Logan, a certain matter has been brought to my attention which I would like you to clarify. Scott?"

Scooter leans forward in his seat, almost eagerly. _Bastard._ Always tryin' to get me in the Prof's bad books. "Kitty says she saw Rogue resting her hand on your thigh during dinner last night."

I raise an eyebrow. "So?" I inquire with a snarl.

I don't think this is the answer the Professor had been expectin'. He fixes me with a steady gaze. "Are you aware of what you are implying, Logan? Please consider carefully before you answer."

"I don't need ta consider, Chuck, the answer's still the same." I flash Scott a resentful glare.

"So it's true? Rogue was …… ?" Scott puts two an' two together an' finally comes up with an answer that makes sense. "For heaven's sake, Logan, what were you thinking of?"

"That's none o' yer business, Summers. Rogue's a big girl now an' if she wants ta put her hand on my leg I ain't gonna stop her."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Scott stands an' starts pacin' in front o' the desk, comin' within an arms length o' me with each second turn. My hands itch with the urge to grab him by the neck an' shove his interferin' face into the wall. "Of all the irresponsible, bone-headed things you could have done ……"

I put up a hand to forestall the tirade. "Now, wait a minute, Summers. It wasn't _my _hand doin' the wanderin'. An' even if it was it wouldn'ta made a jot o' difference."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Summers turns an' fixes me with a ruby tinted glare.

"It means whatever ya want it ta mean," I snap back. "You do the math."

Jean's eyes are flickin' back an' forth between me an' Scott durin' the exchange an' she finally adds her two cent's worth. "Logan, are …… are you …… involved …… with Rogue?"

Silence descends on Xavier's study as all eyes fix me in their sights. For one fleetin' moment I consider lyin', but I can't do that to Marie. It would be like admittin' that what we're doin' is shameful an' wrong. An' so I square my shoulders an' draw myself up to my full height as I send Jean a barely perceptible nod. "So what if I am?" I counter.

Did she read my mind? She's certainly capable of it, but she looks as surprised as Chuck an' Scooter by my admission. Her lips form into a serene smile an' I sense her approval, right before Scooter's hand drops onto my shoulder an' he drags me around to face him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Logan? You have no right to force yourself on Rogue, do you hear me?"

"Fuck you, Summers!" Not exactly eloquent, but that comment cut a little too close to the truth for comfort.

"Logan! I have stayed silent up until now, but I will not allow swearing in my study. Do you understand?"

I nod, sullenly, an' Scott stalks away to lean against the back of his chair. In the followin' silence, Jean stands and walks the few paces between us to take my hand.

"Logan, are you and Rogue …… intimate?"

I trust Jeannie an' I've never been able to deny her anythin'. So I nod, unable to tear my gaze away from her intense green eyes. There was a time when I ached to have those eyes look back into mine as I moved inside her. But those days are gone. It's Marie's eyes I dream of now.

Scott's fist connects sharply with the back of the chair. "Jean, how can you stand there and listen to this? He …… and Rogue ……" He throws his hands up in disgust.

"How long, Logan?" asks Xavier, softly. I think he knows the answer, but he needs me to say it.

"Since the night before last."

Scott does the math an' comes up with the obvious connection. "You bastard!" I notice Xavier doesn't reprimand his favourite boy for swearin'. "That was you howling after you'd ……" He shakes his head in disgust. "You just couldn't wait, could you? The girl barely has control of her powers and you …… You disgust me, Logan."

My hackles rise. I've had enough o' this. I surge forward, grabbing Summers around the neck an' pushin' him back into one o' Xavier's expensive book cases. He grabs my hand, tryin' to pull it free, splutterin' an' chokin' in my grasp as I lean in close, my teeth bared. I can feel the beast within howlin' at the gates, achin' to knock this arrogant bastard into the middle o' next week, an' I barely keep it under control. Some of its influence flares in my eyes as I allow my temper to rise.

"For yer information, Rogue came ta _me _that night. _Ta me!_ An' I wasn't howlin' fer the reason you think I was. That came later, not that it's any o' yer damn business."

"Logan." I cut off with a grunt as Xavier's voice, deep and authoritative yet strangely soft, interrupts my anger. I turn my head slightly to put him in my line of sight, still with the strugglin' Summers boy in my grasp. "I would be very grateful if you would kindly release my X-Man and stand back. Rest assured that if you make one more violent move towards any of my people, I will sever all connections to your basic motor functions and have you carried out of here in a box. I can do it, you know," he adds, conversationally, as I hesitate.

I turn back to Scott an' give him one more snarl for good measure, just so's he realises who he's messin' with, an' then I release him. He falls into an untidy heap at my feet, clutchin' at his throat an' gaspin' for air. Jean immediately swoops in an' helps him to his feet an' together they make it to a chair, where Summers collapses into it. Disgusted, I turn on the spot an' stalk to the window, starin' out at Storm's rose garden, blackly.

"This has gone on long enough," Xavier announces into the ensuin' silence. "There is only one way to settle this." He pauses an', after a couple of seconds, there's a timid knock at the door an' I realise he's summoned someone he's had waitin' in the hallway.

"Come in, Rogue," he calls, an' sure enough, my Marie enters the room, lookin' around her fearfully. She probably overheard all the shoutin' from the hallway. She immediately sees me glowerin' outta the window an' comes straight over to stand beside me, her little hand slippin' into mine an' givin' it a squeeze.

The action is not lost on Xavier, who seems to nod in satisfaction. "Rogue, Logan tells me that you and he are now …… intimate."

_Well, thanks, Charlie. Cut ta the chase, why don't ya?_

Marie nods, hesitantly. She must have known this was comin', yet she still seems ill-prepared for it. "Yes," she whispers, softly, an' her hand tightens on mine.

Xavier leans forward in his chair, restin' his arms on the desk before him. "Rogue, I am going to ask you a question and it is imperative that you answer truthfully. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Professor." Her voice is calm now an' I feel an immense surge o' pride. _You show 'em, kid!_

"Has Logan recently, or at any time in the past, tried to force himself on you, Rogue?" Xavier's eyes flick to mine as he says this an' I feel a moment's discomfort. _He knows._

Marie, however, is quick to answer. "No, Professor, he hasn't."

"Are you sure, child?"

"Professor, may ah speak?"

"Of course, Rogue. This isn't a courtroom."

_Well, ya coulda fooled me._

"It's no secret that ah had a crush on Logan when ah first came here, an' that crush has grown into something stronger over the years. Ah love Logan an' ah know he would never do anything to hurt me."

Xavier glances at me, an' I nod, slowly. "What happened between us is only natural, Chuck. Besides, she's twenty-one now an' I figure she's old enough ta take a man if she wants one."

Xavier smiles indulgently an' Marie snuggles into my side with a giggle. "Ah'm twenty-two, Logan!"

"You are? Shit, when did that happen?"

"Logan, I will not tell you again. Swear once more in my presence and I will be forced to take action."

"Jesus, Chuck, if I can't say shit or fuck, what the hell can I say?"

Xavier shakes his head in despair an' turns away, pinchin' the bridge of his nose. I get the feelin' he's written me off as a bad job.

Havin' got over his scare, Summers makes a valiant effort to regain the upper hand. "Professor, what do you intend to do about this? We simply can't allow him to prey on every woman that catches his eye."

Marie's indignant "Hey!" almost drowns out my own retort. "Summers, so help me, I'll ……"

Xavier holds up his hand for silence. "I am going to do nothing, Scott. They are both consenting adults and, as such, I have no right to interfere." _Damn right! _I smile triumphantly at Marie, only to grunt as Xavier fixes me with an intense stare. "However, Logan, if I ever hear that you have mistreated Rogue in any way, or hurt her, then believe me, I will make you very sorry."

"Ain't no chance o' that, Chuck." Marie snuggles into my side, happily, an' Xavier nods in satisfaction, lookin' towards Scott who snorts an' turns away, pointedly. No chance o' retribution there, then. Jean, however, walks over an' gathers Marie into a loose embrace, which my girl returns, hesitantly.

"I'm happy for you, Rogue, but I hope you know what you're doing." The redhead tosses me a smile to show there's no insult meant an' I show her my canines in return. Marie is grinnin' like a loon.

"Ah got what ah wanted, Jean. An' don't worry about me. Ah can handle him."

_Oh, ya can, can ya?__ We'll see about that._

Xavier wheels out from behind his desk, gathering us all up on his way to the door. "Much as I have enjoyed this little tete a tete, I have work to do and this school doesn't run itself. So off with you. Scott, don't forget that the jet is due for its 50,000 mile service some time this week."

Tete a tete? _What the hell?_ The man all but threatened to lobotomise me an' he thinks we were just havin' a cosy chat? Guess there's a darker side to the Prof after all.

Summers takes off the moment the study door closes behind us. Obviously ain't feelin' chatty. Marie grins up at me, her eyes alight with the freedom bestowed on us by our mentor. "Ah gotta go, Logan! Storm'll be wonderin' where ah've got to. Ah'll see you later, 'kay?"

"Sure, kid." I reach out to pull the strands of white hair through my fingers an' she presses a kiss to my palm before scamperin' off.

Jean watches her go. "She'll be good for you, Logan," she says, approvingly. "At least you won't have to pant after me any longer."

"Jeannie, I'll always pant after you," I respond, seriously. "But it's Rogue I love."

Her face is a picture as I stride away.

**NEXT: **Sometimes ya just gotta get away …… an' a bike is so good fer the sex drive!


	4. The Hellion On My Harley

Hey everyone! Sorry for being so late with this update, but it's nearly Christmas and, once again, my working hours have been increased. Honestly, I don't know why they don't just have me take my bed in!

Many thanks to all my faithful reviewers! **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Laudine, Jedi Ditz, MidLifeCrisis, Sarra Ambrai **and **seargentlambchop! **Those shiny reviews look real nice on my mantel!

This chapter - more smut, but the darkness begins! Get ready for the ride of your life! (Sorry, no pun intended!)

**ooXoo**

**The Hellion On My Harley**

I've been in a foul mood all day an', geez, I wonder why? I'm bein' ironic here, in case it's escaped yer notice. Much as I appreciate everythin' Xavier's done for me – givin' me a home an' helpin' me to sort out my missin' memories an' all – I can't help but feel that he was way outta line callin' me into his study this mornin'. I know what I shoulda done – I shoulda told him an' his fancy X-Men to fuck off an' stormed outta there. But sometime in the past one hundred years or so o' my life, I seem to have developed this sense o' honour an' pride, an' I couldn't walk out an' not defend that honour. For good or for bad, Marie an' me are a couple now an' no matter what Scooter thinks there's nothin' sordid or sleazy about it. There's a connection between us. God knows how or why, but I've known she was meant to be mine since the day she sat in my camper an' finished off the last o' my beef jerky. An' I think she knew it too. An' no matter what the Xaviers an' the Scooters o' this world say, nothin' will change that. It's a fact o' life. _My _life.

I ain't exactly feelin' sociable after Xavier's tete a tete so I'm kinda relieved that I have no trainin' sessions scheduled for the day. Christ knows I can traumatise the kids well enough when I'm in a reasonably good mood, so it's anybody's guess what I could achieve in my current state o' mind. So I spend some time foolin' around with the Harley an' fittin' the new sparkplugs in the jeep an' before I know it, the afternoon's gone an' I'm bein' assaulted by the delicious aromas o' the chicken casserole we're havin' for dinner. Funny how time flies when you're havin' fun ……

My stomach growls loudly to remind me that I didn't stop for lunch. Come to think of it, breakfast was a hit an' miss affair too, for obvious reasons.

I drop down the jeep's hood an' reach for a rag, wipin' away the oil that coats my fingers. I wish I could wipe away my sudden feelin' of unease just as easily. There's a little voice in my head, tellin' me to stop bein' such a fool an' grow up, but the thought o' facin' the rest o' the teachin' staff in the dinin' room after this mornin's debacle is makin' me sick to the stomach. They'd have to be deaf not to know about me an' Marie by now – as I've said before, news goes around this place faster than a dose o' clap in a brothel. Ain't nothin' I can do about that. But damn me for a fool if I have to put up with their disapprovin' glances an' barely hidden hostility. An' those flamin' kids …… If I have to listen to one more stage-whispered explanation o' how Marie tamed the big bad Wolverine, I'll ……

_Oh, fer god's sake …… ! _I know what I wanna do, so why don't I just cut the crap an' do it?

Tossin' the rag aside, I stride from the garage, slammin' the door behind me an' gettin' a moment's satisfaction as the resultin' crash startles a young student just passin' by. She backs off as I storm past an' I resist the urge to growl. The way she lowers her eyes as if afraid to meet my gaze is enough to convince me that I've got her on the hop. Flamin' kids think I'm tamed, do they? I don't know the meanin' o' the word.

I almost barrel into Storm as I pass the kitchen, my nose alertin' me to her presence just in time to avoid the collision. She rocks back into the doorway, surprised by my sudden appearance but recoverin' quickly an' reachin' out a hand as I stalk past.

"Logan, I would like to …… Logan?"

She breaks off helplessly as I ignore her an' continue on my way. I certainly don't need another lecture right now an' especially not from the holier-than-thou weather witch. What I _do _need is my girl, preferably writhin' under me an' pantin' my name, but I'll settle for some good old fashioned peace an' quiet an' some time to talk. An' possibly a beer. Yeah, definitely a beer.

Reachin' Marie's room, I shove open the door with enough force to send it crashin' back into the wall behind. Marie, just comin' from the bathroom with a brush in her hand, jumps back with a squeak.

"Christ, Logan! Don't ya ever knock?"

I release the growl gatherin' in my chest an' she purses her lips, puttin' the brush down on the nearby dresser. "Ah guess not. So. Did ya just come here to give me a heart attack, or did ya have another purpose in mind?"

I resist the urge to bear her down to the bed an' show her what's really on my mind. "Grab a jacket. We're goin' out."

"Wha …… ? Out? But it's dinner time."

"I know. That's why we're goin' out."

"But we're havin' banana splits for dessert tonight. Ah was looking forward to one of those."

"Christ, Marie! Are ya comin' or not?"

She gives me a long, calculatin' look before stridin' to her wardrobe, openin' it an' searchin' the rail for her jacket. I can hear her mutterin' as she slides the clothes around an' I lean back against the door jamb, foldin' my arms an' tappin' my fingers impatiently. "Get a move on, will ya?"

"For heaven's sake, sugah, what's the rush?" She turns from the wardrobe, clutchin' her favourite green leather jacket – _green leather, fer Chrissakes! – _an' regards me with that curious tilt o' the head that I usually find so endearin' but which is really startin' to piss me off right now. "Ah thought you'd enjoy havin' the chance to talk to everybody at dinner tonight." She begins to shrug herself into the jacket. Not fast enough, I might add. "Ah know Scott wasn't too complimentary about us being together, but not everyone shares his opinion, y'know? Storm, especially, wanted to congratulate us."

"She did?" _Well, that's news ta me._

"Sure." Marie closes the wardrobe door an' moves across the room to stand in front o' me, smilin' up at my face. "She actually thinks we shoulda got together long before this, but I guess the ol' poison skin kinda got in the way, huh?"

"Ah, shit." So Storm is one of our supporters? I'm actually startin' to feel bad about cuttin' her dead in the hallway just now, but the deed is done an' I can't take it back. Maybe I'll see her at breakfast …… ?

"Oh, geez, Logan, you think …… you think everybody's gonna be like Scott, don't you? That's why we're going out. We're avoidin' everybody."

A low rumble starts in my chest an' she moves closer to press her palm to my cheek. "Come to dinner with me, sugah. It won't be so bad, ah promise."

"Marie!" As much as I love this girl, my patience is rapidly wearin' thin an' once I've made up my mind I don't ever change it. For anyone. "Marie, if ya don't get yer ass outta that door right now an' down ta the garage, I swear I'll throw ya over my shoulder an' carry ya there."

Her eyes light up an', for a moment, I actually think she's gonna call my challenge, but she finally snorts an' stalks out into the hallway, bristlin' like a cat. "Fine! Miss dessert then! See if ah care!"

Closin' Marie's door behind me – a great deal quieter than I opened it – we make our way down to the garage, pausin' at the closet near the front door for me to grab my leather jacket. In the garage, I activate the control to open the huge metal door an' then stalk to the bike, swingin' my leg over an' settlin' into the seat, decisively.

Marie eyes the bike with some consternation. "Can't we go in the jeep? Ah've just done my hair."

"No. Bike. Now shaddup an' get on." My mood has not improved any durin' our journey down from Marie's room.

"Y'know, ya really are a grumpy bastard when the mood takes ya." Marie clambers onto the back o' the bike, her annoyance makin' her Southern drawl more noticeable. I love it when she's angry. "Ah swear, if ah didn't love ya so much ah'd smack ya upside the head."

"Ya could try," I growl back, startin' up the bike an' feelin' her arms go around my waist as I rev the engine. Feelin' spiteful, I let her rip an' barrel outta the garage faster than safety protocols would allow, considerin' a kid could be walkin' past at that precise moment. Marie squeals an' hangs on for dear life as I send the bike hurtlin' down the driveway in a spray o' gravel.

As I turn outta the driveway, I realise that insistin' on takin' the bike may not have been a wise decision after all. Marie is sittin' so close to me that her knees are pressin' into my thighs – goin' around a corner only makes her grip harder. As I fight to keep my attention on the road ahead, she leans closer an' I stifle a groan as I feel her hot breasts pressin' into my back.

"Where are we going?" Her lips brush my ear as she pitches her tone to be heard above the rushin' o' the wind an' my heart jolts in response, sendin' a flush o' heat to my groin. The warm puff of air she breathes into my ear is surely my imagination – the rush o' passin' wind would have stolen it away long before it reached me.

"Sugah?" I realise she is waitin' for an answer an' I force myself to focus.

"I thought we'd go to Harry's," I shout back. "A rare steak an' a beer wouldn't go amiss right now."

"Sounds good." Marie nods appreciatively an' rests her head on my shoulder. "Maybe I could persuade you to shoot a few rounds o' pool with me?"

"We'll see," I hedge. "Beer first. Entertainment later."

"Okay, sugah. Whatever you say." She sighs happily an' I concentrate on overtakin' a camper pullin' a trailer which is weavin' about the road due to bein' slightly overloaded on one side. The driver helpfully waves me through once the road ahead is clear an' I pull out, givin' the camper the once over as I roar past. The similarity between this vehicle an' the camper I was drivin' when I met Marie three years ago is so acute that I lose myself in memories for a moment an', by the time I come back to the here an' now, I am several miles up the road an' Marie has somehow managed to get her hands beneath my jacket without me noticin'.

There's nothin' between my body an' the heat of her palms but the material o' the flannel shirt I am wearin', an' even that offers scant protection as her fingers deftly undo a couple o' buttons.

"Marie," I growl, warningly.

"Oh, hush, sugah." She pushes closer to my back an' her hand slips inside my shirt, warm fingers splayin' against my stomach. Torn between concentratin' on the road an' the feel of her gently strokin' hand, I fail to notice her other hand driftin' slowly lower until it squeezes the bulge in my jeans.

The bike wobbles alarmingly as all concentration is momentarily lost.

"Christ, Marie, are ya tryin' ta get us both killed?" Control regained, I remove her hand from my nether regions an' place it back around my waist, tossin' a glare over my shoulder. "Save it fer the bedroom, okay?"

"You didn't say that the other night out by the boathouse." I can almost hear the pout in her voice as she exposes the flaw in my logic. "Come on, sugah, lighten up."

"Marie, we're on a bike." I point out the obvious, but somehow I get the feelin' she's not listenin'. The hand in my shirt is tracin' tiny circles on my skin an' her free hand has wandered south once more, wisely stayin' clear o' my rapidly growin' erection but still managin' to force a groan from my lips as she squeezes my thigh. I get the feelin' she knows exactly what she is doin' to me an' if she doesn't stop she's gonna get more than she bargained for.

When her hot little tongue flicks out to lick the back o' my ear I know I gotta scratch this itch before it kills me. She squeals as I swerve the bike violently off the road onto a rough track that runs through the surroundin' forest an' up into the hills.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." I think she knows where we're goin' an' why, but she stays quiet as we jolt along, the uneven dirt road doin' my achin' groin no favours. The overlappin' trees steal away the last o' the day's wanin' light an' I am forced to switch on the bike's headlight, more for Marie's benefit than mine. The beam casts strange shadows on the trees ahead.

Four miles down the road I pull off onto what is barely more than a rabbit track through the trees, finally emergin' into a small clearin' as the last o' the day's light is leeched from the sky by the oncomin' night. Stars begin to emerge as the sky darkens an' Marie breathes out a soft sigh as the crescent moon emerges from behind a cloud, bathin' the clearin' in a silvery glow. "Oh, Logan! So pretty!"

Kickin' down the bike's stand, I shrug out o' my jacket and hang it from the handlebars, immediately feelin' Marie's arms go around me and begin to undo the remainin' buttons on my shirt. She doesn't ask how or why I know of the clearin' an' I don't volunteer the information either. She's probably thinkin' that I bring my women here. The truth owes more to my feral nature than my love o' sex. I come here when I feel the beast inside me tryin' to exert its control an' make me in its image. The peace an' quiet here is soothin', the solitude a welcome change to the constant barrage o' noise at the mansion. Here, I can ground myself in nature an' allow the man to regain control.

Havin' undone my buttons, Marie removes my shirt, pullin' it back an' off my shoulders an' tossin' it onto my jacket. Her hands return unerringly to my chest, roamin' my body as if tryin' to commit every inch o' me to memory, her knees pressin' into my thighs an' imprisonin' my legs against the bike. It's strangely erotic to see her disembodied hands movin' up an' down my chest an' I groan softly as she runs the pads of her fingers across my flat nipples, makin' them harden under her touch.

I can feel her breath on the back o' my neck as one hand drifts lower, tracin' a line o' dark hair down to my belly button, which she circles once or twice before skippin' over my jeans to caress my thigh. The friction excites the growin' bulge between my legs an' Marie giggles against my neck as I shift uncomfortably on the bike's seat.

"Not comfy, sweetie? Let's see if ah can remedy that."

Both hands glide to the large buckle that fastens my belt, flippin' it open an' draggin' the belt from its loops with one swift movement. She flings it away across the clearin' an' my eyes follow its flight, committin' its final landin' place to memory. That's my favourite belt an' I'll want it back later.

The button at the waistband o' my jeans is next to go an' my breath catches as she turns her attention to the zipper, slidin' it down slowly so as not to trap any sensitive flesh. The night air is wonderfully cool on my throbbin' heat, yet all I can think of is buryin' myself to the hilt in another kind o' warmth.

When her hands go to the waistband o' my jeans an' push down, insistently, I get the hint an' put both feet on the ground, raisin' myself up just enough for her to push my jeans down my thighs. I am now effectively pinned to the bike – with Marie's knees pressin' into my legs and the jeans keepin' me hobbled, the only way I'll get off the Harley is by fallin' off.

I don't know what to do with my hands – when I reach for hers, intendin' to guide it where I want it to go, she slaps them away, resolutely refusin' to touch me until I move them away. Lost for ideas, I put my right hand on her thigh, grippin' tightly, an' reachin' slightly up an' around me to fist my left hand into her hair, windin' the silky strands around my fingers. Unintentionally, this posture leaves me completely open to her desires, a fact that I find disturbin' yet highly excitin' as I watch her hands drift down my chest to my waitin' cock.

Her hand encircles me, strokin' down to the base an' back up to the head with a smoothness that makes my head spin. At the apex of her upward stroke, she circles her thumb across the glossy crown, smearin' the pre-cum that is already weepin' from the slit, an' my cock jerks in her hand, cravin' more attention an' gettin' it as she takes her hand on another languid journey down my length. An involuntary groan of pleasure escapes my lips as she tightens her grip. "Marie ……"

"You like that, don't you?" she purrs, suggestively, against my ear an' I groan again as her hair falls over my shoulder, brushin' against already sensitive nipples. She's got me right where she wants me, an' she knows it. Her hand stills an' I can't stop the growl that rumbles in my throat. "Do you want me to continue, baby? Do you want me to make you come?"

_Christ, she wants me ta beg!_ For a split second, a haze of anger washes over me – I beg for nothin', even from Marie. But then her free hand slides around my waist an' she reaches down between my legs, squashin' her breasts against my back so that she can squeeze my achin' balls, an' I arch back into her with a cry. "Ah, _Christ,_ Marie …… _please ……"_

It wasn't meant as a plea for her to continue, but she takes it as such and begins to jack me in earnest now, her grip tightenin' as she strokes up towards the head then loosenin' as she descends, to repeat the process over and over, her movements exactly mimickin' how I would do this myself an' I know she is accessin' my memories to make this perfect for me. An' all the time, the hand on my balls is slowly squeezin' an' caressin' an' I can feel the pressure buildin' at the base o' my spine an' I know it isn't goin' to be long before I come.

With my breath comin' in short, ragged gasps, she ups the pace, tightenin' her grip until it's almost painful an' I clench my teeth as a spasm ripples through my lower body, heraldin' my impendin' climax. "Oh god …… oh _god ……"_

"That's it, baby, come for me." Marie's lips are brushin' my ear again an' I shiver at the teasin' touch. "Let it go, sugah. Ah wanna see ya come."

" ……. Harder …… Marie ……" The words escape my lips before I can stop them an' she smiles against my neck, teasin' the flesh with hot little kisses that start behind my ear an' drift down to the soft flesh at the base o' my neck. As I tilt my head to the side to give her greater access, she clamps her teeth to the soft flesh there an' bites down – _hard._ Markin' me. Like a feral.

"Jesus _Christ ……!"_ The combined pleasure-pain tips me over the edge an' I climax hard, growlin' like a madman as I pump my seed all over Marie's hand an' the front o' my bike.

It takes a while to come down from my high an', when I do, I realise my head is restin' on her shoulder an' she is strokin' my damp hair. My hand goes unerringly to the location of her bite, but the wound has already healed an' there is just a smear of blood to show it ever existed at all. She marked me. She thinks I'm hers. The beast in me howls its approval, the thought o' bein' marked by Marie makin' me as horny as hell.

Her knees are still pressed against my thighs an' I push them away, almost fallin' off the bike in my haste to remove my jeans. When I turn back, she is sittin' side saddle, languidly lickin' my come from her fingers, an' I growl in approval, takin' her face in my hands an' crushin' my lips to hers, tastin' myself on her tongue.

It doesn't take long to divest her of her blouse, pants and underwear, but when I make to lower her to the soft grass she grasps my shoulders an' pulls me back. "No," she whispers, urgently. "On the bike."

I nod an' retake my seat, but when she starts to sit facin' me I swivel her around to face the handlebars. If she wants to ride the Harley, we're gonna do this right ……

"Put yer feet on the rests," I growl, roughly, against her neck. "An' hold onto the handlebars."

She does as she is told, leanin' forward slightly to reach the handlebars, the moonlight slidin' across the soft curves of her back an' makin' her glow like somethin' out of a dream. I can smell her arousal as I hitch nearer an' when she looks back at me over her shoulder through the dark fall of her hair, my balls tighten painfully.

She gasps as I press the tip o' my cock to her slick folds an' I know this isn't gonna be gentle. Thanks to jerkin' me off an' the bite to my neck, she's got the beast howlin' at the door an' it ain't gonna be appeased until it's taken its woman hard an' fast. Her words to Jean this mornin' come back, unbidden, to my mind. So she thinks she can handle the Wolverine, does she? _Well, here's yer chance, babe ……_

I push forward, roughly, gruntin' as her slick warmth envelopes me. Normally, I'd stop, pull out an' enter again several times, makin' penetration slow an' easy for my woman. But the beast is in control now an' it has no concept o' bein' gentle. Marie screams as I plunge deep in one single thrust, openin' her before me an' plunderin' her sweetness for my own.

"Oh _god_ ….. Logan! Oh yes …… _yes!_

Her frantic cries stoke my desire an' I pull back, rammin' forward again with such force that the Harley rattles beneath us. I grasp her hips to steady her, pullin' her back into me as I begin to thrust hard, a steady growl buildin' in my chest as the beast claims its woman.

"Can you feel me, Marie? Can you feel how hard I am for you?" I can't resist tauntin' her the way she taunted me an' when I slip a hand down to rub the little nubbin o' pleasure between her legs she moans deliriously, buckin' into my fingers.

I can feel her climax buildin' an' when it hits she lets go of the handlebars an' archs back against me with a soft cry, shudderin' in my arms. As her inner walls clamp down on my cock, I manage two more hard thrusts before my own climax hits an' she moans at the sensation o' my hot seed releasin' deep into her.

Exhausted an' sweaty, we slump against the handlebars. I can feel aftershocks runnin' through her body an' I wait until her breathin' slows before pullin' out o' her an' reachin' for my jacket. I place it around her shoulders an' she smiles up at me, her eyes lazy with the afterglow o' good sex.

"Wow! That was ……" Words fail her an' I'm only too happy to supply the one she is lookin' for.

"Mindblowin'?"

She nods happily an' I glance down at the Harley beneath us, which is glistening slightly with the results of our union. "Gonna have ta give her a over-haul in the mornin'," I inform her, guiltily, as I reach down an' grab my jeans. "I'm not sure if what we just did is good fer the engine."

"It was certainly good for mine." Marie tosses me a wink as she hops off the bike an' I take a moment to admire the way her body moves as she searches among the pile o' clothin' for her panties. With my enhanced eyesight, I can see 'em clearly, but somehow I neglect to pass the information along.

We dress slowly, takin' every opportunity to caress an' kiss as the mood takes us. By the time I have retrieved my belt from across the clearin', she is leanin' against the bike, eyein' me speculatively as I thread the belt through the loops on my jeans.

"I'm hungry," she complains, soundin' like a little girl half her age. "The sex was great, but it's left me with a huge yearnin' for steak."

"No problem." I quirk an eyebrow. "Harry's isn't far away an' we could always call back here after we've eaten?"

The sultry look in her eye gives me the answer to that question better than any words could have done an' I stride to the bike, eagerly. Sooner we eat, the sooner I can get to have my hands on Marie again.

I hear the soft click of a firearm bein' cocked just seconds before the scent of a stranger reaches me on the breeze. It's so faint, I almost miss it, but it's masked by the overpowerin' after-scent of our love-makin' an' I curse the lapse o' concentration that has allowed someone to sneak up on me undetected.

I whirl Marie away from the bike an' into the protection of my arms just seconds before the high powered bullet smacks me in the back o' the head. It can't penetrate my adamantium skull, but the impact is enough to send me to my knees, draggin' Marie down with me. Another bullet, this time to the base o' my neck, an' I haul in a ragged breath, my nerves afire with jagged pain. As blackness seeps in from the edges o' my vision, I topple slowly forwards. The last thing I hear before oblivion claims me is the sound of another gunshot an' Marie's piercin' scream ……

**NEXT: **With Wolverine injured, Rogue fights for their lives!


	5. His Dying Breath

Hey everyone! Managed to get this chapter written faster than I expected! Yay, me!

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Ren-stranger, Mrs Speer, seargentlambchop, **and **MidLifeCrisis! **At this rate, I'm going to have to get a new cabinet to hold all my shiny reviews!

Things are really going to hot up a bit with this chapter! Hope y'all are ready!

**ooXoo**

**5. His Dying Breath**

_He's down! Oh m'ah god, Logan's down! What am ah gonna do?_

Lying in the cool grass, with my unconscious lover stretched out beside me, I do the one thing I swore I would never do in a situation like this ……

I panic. Pure and simple. Fear washes over me and I whimper softly in the back of my throat as an uncomfortable feeling like freezing water ripples down my spine. There are men out there! With guns! They've already taken down Logan and I just know they're coming for me next.

I glance across at Logan. His face is tilted away from me and I can see the hair at the back of his head is matted with blood. The bullet wound at the base of his neck is still bleeding – I can see it oozing from the wound in the moonlight_. Shouldn't it have healed by now? Shouldn't he have expelled the bullet from the wound?_

I know as sure as day turns into night that something is seriously wrong and it's this fact alone that penetrates the haze of fear fogging my brain, forcing me to relax and take slow, calming breaths. I'm an X-Man – I've faced situations like this one a thousand times before in the Danger Room.

In the Danger Room. I try not to let that thought distract me as I peer around the bike, alert for any sign of movement. Okay, so maybe most of my combat experience has been of the simulated variety, and always with the rest of my team-mates around me, but that doesn't change the fact that I've been trained by the best and, right now, that training is the only thing capable of saving Logan and myself from whoever is out there.

I shuffle away from Logan to the other end of the bike, peering around the front tyre at the surrounding trees. _Ah can't see a damn thing!_ There could be one man out there, or as many as forty, but I can't see a single one. But they can sure see us, or the bullets that took Logan down wouldn't have been so well placed. It's a safe bet that our opponents are wearing night-sights. An' I'm gonna assume there's more than one, 'cause no one in their right mind would ever go up against the Wolverine alone.

So, having concluded that we're surrounded, what next?

We're as good as dead unless I can get to the shootists an' take 'em out first. But for that I need to be able to find them faster than they can find us. I need to be able to see in the dark. I need ……

…… I need Logan's enhanced senses.

I crawl quickly back to my lover and turn him onto his back. Even in the moonlight I can see that his face is pale and his breathing is ragged and erratic. There's something definitely wrong with his healing factor. I need his senses and his tracking skills. But if I take his abilities, I'll leave him vulnerable to the gunshot wounds and …… he may die.

I pull back, fear of the unknown making me reconsider, but then I feel the cold certainty that we will both definitely die if those men out there find us here and I know that I have to take the risk if we're going to get out of here alive.

I press my hand to Logan's cheek. He's cold and his eyelids flutter erratically as some part of him, buried deep, tries to respond to my touch. I won't absorb much – just enough to track and scent, that's all. I take a calming breath and trigger my power.

"Ah'm sorry, Logan, but ah have to do this. Ah don't have any other choice."

I gasp as his own unique abilities flow into me, filling me with his essence, his memories – everything that makes him who he is. His most recent memory is the strongest and I blush as I see 'myself' entering a woman with white streaks in her hair from behind and sensing the flow of emotion behind the image – the feral pride, the overwhelming sense of possession, and the glorious rush of coming inside the woman 'I' love. I feel an answering heat in my own belly and I know that, given the right circumstances, this little foray into my lover's memories would have me coming in my own panties.

I don't hold on to him for long – I don't want to hurt him any more than I have to, and I would prefer to leave him with at least some of his abilities intact. He needs his healing factor far more than I do. I push his memories aside now, concentrating instead on the feral senses I now possess. The world around me is frighteningly different – the clearing almost seems as bright as day after my own limited outlook. Logan has had a lifetime to hone the abilities that I now have just seconds to learn how to control and I struggle to make sense of the rush of information being presented to my brain by my new enhanced senses. But I can scent at least five men out there and all of them are carrying firearms, if the scent of gun-oil is anything to go by. They've been hanging back, probably waiting to see if their prey is playing possum, but at least two of them are now moving in, from opposite sides of the clearing.

These are the men I need to take down first.

I concentrate on the one approaching from this side of the bike. I can't see him yet as he's still in the trees, but I can hear his feet treading softly through the undergrowth. And he's scared – his heart is beating wildly at the thought of confronting the legendary Wolverine. _Good._ His fear will make him sloppy.

I crawl off into the grass, heading for the trees directly between the two men. I hate leaving Logan alone, but the bulk of the bike will protect him from the man approaching from the other side of the clearing and, by the time he gets too close, I should, god willing, have dispatched the first man.

Once I reach the trees I stand and set off at a run, my feet making scarcely a sound as I flit from cover to cover. Ordinarily, I would never be able to move like this, but my lover's instincts are ruling my body, telling me exactly where to place my feet in order to make as little sound as possible. The feeling is exhilarating and a rush to my senses and, if the moment wasn't so desperate, I would throw my head back and laugh with the sheer joy of it.

I slow when I see my quarry come into view. He's moving stealthily through the long grass and, as luck would have it, he's very near to the tree-line. I won't have far to leap when I make my move.

I choose a tree and duck behind it, not even needing to look out to know exactly where my prey is. My hands itch around the knuckles and I curl them into fists, wishing I have my lover's claws right now. The lethal blades would come in useful, but my bare knuckles will have to do.

As the shootist draws level with my tree, I drop into a crouch and hurl myself out of hiding, resisting the urge to indulge in one of Logan's infamous battlehowls. I tackle the man low, taking his legs out from under him and hearing a muted 'oof' as he hits the ground. I have no desire to touch this guy – anyone crazy enough to take on the Wolverine is not a person I want taking up permanent residence in my head – and so I wrap my arms around his neck and twist. I hear a satisfying snap and his flailing body goes still.

I hold my breath for a moment, expecting to hear a shout, a gunshot, anything to show that this guy's sudden disappearance has been noticed. But I hear nothing and, when I roll to my knees to peer through the grass in the direction of the bike, I suddenly know why.

The second shootist has moved faster than I expected and is standing over Logan, pointing his weapon directly at my lover's face.

Two things happen simultaneously – I leap forward, all pretence at stealth gone, screaming my lover's name, as the lover in question surges to his feet, howling like a madman and swinging his claws in a wide arc at the shootist's neck. The results are predictable and gorily dramatic.

A hail of bullets erupts from the three men still in hiding and Logan howls once more, dropping to one knee as he takes a bullet in the side. He sees me charging across the grass and struggled upright, roaring my name.

"Rogue!"

By the time I reach him, he is on the bike with the motor running, and I see the remaining three shootists running through the grass towards us. Logan can obviously see them too, because he aims a vicious snarl at the nearest one and has the satisfaction of seeing the man falter.

My lover looks dreadful – his face is pale and sweaty and he is covered in blood, both his own and the shootist's. His breathing rattles in his chest and, when he gestures at me to get on the bike behind him, it's with the stunted movements of a man in a lot of pain.

I shake my head at him, pushing him back and vaulting on to the bike in front of him. "Don't take offence, sugah, but ya look dead on your feet. If ya pass out while drivin' ah don't give much for our chances."

The fact that he doesn't argue with me lends mute testament to how bad he really feels.

I haven't a clue how to drive a bike, but I access Logan's memories and send it careering towards the trees, my eyes already picking out the rabbit track ahead. I hear a couple of cracks ring out behind us and I feel Logan jerk and hear him grunt and I know he's been shot again. My heart cries out in pain for him.

"Logan? You okay, sugah?"

A moment's silence, then, "M'fine, Marie. Jus' go."

His voice is rough – he's hurting – but I don't get time to dwell on this as the rabbit track is upon us and I send the bike hurtling through the trees. If not for Logan's feral instincts and sight I would have wrapped the Harley around the nearest tree – I'm having enough trouble keeping it upright on the uneven ground as it is, and I scream as the front wheel hits a furrow and we begin to slide out of control ……

Logan's arm snakes around me and he grabs the handlebar, simultaneously putting a foot to the ground and correcting our forward motion. But the effort costs him dearly and he slumps against my back as he relinquishes control to me once more.

We rocket out of the trees onto the dirt road …… and straight into the path of an armoured truck.

"Oh, _geez ……!"_ I gun the engine and speed up in an effort to put as much distance between us and the truck's huge wheels as possible. "They've got flamin' reinforcements!"

Logan's only answer is a non-committal grunt. His arms around my waist are painfully tight – almost a death-grip – and I pat his hand reassuringly, knowing that each jolt on this dirt road must be agony for him.

There's a strange sounding click from the truck behind us and the hair on my neck literally stands on end. "What the hell was that?"

I feel Logan move as he looks behind us and then his breath is hot on my ear as he leans in close. "Don't look back, Marie! Just go! _Go!"_

I don't need telling twice. The engine roars as the bike shoots forward, just as a hail of bullets peppers the ground behind us. "They're shootin' at us!"

"No! Ya think?" Logan's voice is laced with pained sarcasm. "They've got a machine gun mounted on top o' the truck. If they hit the bike, we're goners. Ya gotta move, Marie!"

"I'm trying!" And I am, too, literally weaving across the narrow track in an effort to throw the sights of the gunner behind us. The big truck all but fills the track, its sides brushing the overhanging branches.

They open fire again and I hear a metallic ping as a bullet hits the bike and then a grunt from Logan. _Christ, they've shot him again!_

"Rogue?" _Oh, geez, he sounds awful. _I risk a quick glimpse behind me – his face is ashen and there's a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. _Oh, Logan …… _"Keep yer eyes ahead, Rogue. Ya gotta do somethin' fer me." He's using my codename, which means …… _Oh god, were gonna fight! _"When I give the signal, pull over ta the side o' the track an' hit the brakes. We're gonna let the truck go past."

"Go past …… ? Christ, Logan, there isn't room! They'll hit us!"

"Just do it, Rogue!" His tone leaves no room for argument and I nod, silently.

I tighten my grip on the handlebars and focus ahead, my expression determined. There's a section of road coming up where the trees are set back slightly, leaving a grassy area at the side of the road and I know Logan is planning on staging his ambush there. I grit my teeth, awaiting his signal.

"Now!"

He barks the command and I swerve onto the grass, simultaneously hitting the breaks. Unable to stop in time, the truck thunders past and Logan unsheathes his claws, ramming them into the front wheel with a fierce roar.

The truck shudders as the wheel collapses, spinning it around and then flipping it as the opposite wheel digs into a rut in the road. It crashes into the trees just ahead of us, resting drunkenly on the roof, the machine gun lying crushed beside it.

"Let's go!" Logan sheathes his claws, but I get a glimpse of his hand and the wounds aren't healing.

"Your hand …… ?"

"_Go!"_

Helplessly, I set the bike to the road again and we roar past the disabled truck. A couple of dazed looking men are clambering out of the front.

We encounter no further resistance and I head for the main road, not even thinking of reducing speed. Logan urgently requires medical attention and the sooner he gets it, the better.

We both spot the camper and trailer blocking the end of the dirt road at exactly the same time.

"Logan!"

"I know. I see it."

"But it's ……"

"I _know ……!"_

It's the same camper we passed hours ago on the way to the clearing. That it's here now, blocking the roadway, means ……. it means we're in a hell of a lot o' trouble, that's what it means.

The vehicle is blocking the entire road – there's no way past it on either side and the trees grow so thick to the edge of the road that there's no way to get through them. But Logan leans past me, grasping the handlebars to either side of my hands and hunching over me.

"Keep yer head down, Rogue, an' hang on," he growls, warningly, in my ear.

"But what …… ?" He can't be thinking of going _through_ the camper, can he? _He's crazy! He _might survive the impact, but _I _certainly wouldn't, the protection of Logan's arms or not. And what about the bike?

I'm about to protest when I see it – the fallen tree at the side of the road. It's broken off half way up the trunk and collapsed parallel to the roadway, with the highest end facing the camper. And with a jolt of absolute dread, I realise what he's planning to do.

"No! Oh god, Logan, you can't! We'll be _killed!_ Or worse!"

"Jus' hang on, darlin'," is his only reply.

Somehow, he manages to wring a burst of extra speed out of the engine and that fallen tree is in front of us far faster than I expected – or even hoped. Logan makes the bike do a little hop and then we're roaring up the fallen trunk, with a huge drop and a big expanse of nothing between us and freedom. And below us is a crappy old camper which is even now spewing out a troop of body-armoured men, all carrying guns. If the fall doesn't kill us, the men with guns will.

We're between a rock and a hard place.

And, curse me for a fool, but I actually start to laugh.

The end of the tree is upon us and the bike takes off, wheels spinning as though trying to find purchase on the air. Logan heaves back on the handlebars, trying to keep the front end up – if we hit the road on the front wheel we'll flip and that'll be all she wrote. But the camper is looming ahead of us, and it soon becomes apparent that we're descending too fast. With our combined weight, the bike is too heavy and we're going to hit.

"Oh shiiiiit ...... !"

I can't help it – I squeeze my eyes shut. If death is coming, I don't want to watch and maybe he'll miss me. I can feel Logan frantically fighting the bike and then there's a sickening crunch as we hit something and bounce. The bike slews sideways and Logan grunts, hauling on the handlebars. Then there's a huge jolt, a smattering of gunfire, we skid sideways before the wheels find purchase and suddenly we're roaring forward again.

"Ya can open yer eyes now, darlin'."

I do so, tentatively, to find us barrelling down the road that leads, inevitably, to the mansion. _I don't believe it! We jumped the camper! We're back on the goddamn road!!_

"What happened?" I ask, twisting around slightly so that I can see my lover's face. His skin is beginning to take on a ghastly grey pallor.

"Hit the roof," he explains, his eyes never leaving the road. "Any lower an' we'd have gone right through the flamin' cab …… but …… we ……"

"Logan!" I scream as his eyes close and his body begins to slide sideways, threatening to drag us over. I make a wild grab for the handlebars as the bike wobbles alarmingly, my right hand reaching behind me to grab hold of Logan's jacket, clinging on for dear life. I am not going to lose him! I will not!! "Logan, for heaven's sake, stay with me!"

He groans and his eyes flutter open, quickly taking in our predicament. His arms go around my waist and tighten, locking him in place. "Marie …… I ……" His voice is a painful wheeze.

I try to ignore the tears welling up in my eyes and concentrate on keeping us both on the bike. "We're nearly there, sugah. Just hang on. Ah'll get us home."

"Marie ……"

He's passed out. I can tell by the weight on my back. His head is resting on my shoulder and I can hear his breath wheezing in and out with a wet rattle. _Oh, god, Logan, hang on. Please hang on._

The journey back to the mansion is the longest I have ever taken in my entire life. The road seems to go on for ever and I alternate between moments of perfect lucidity - during which I talk to Logan, hardly caring whether he can hear me or not just as long as I assure him of my love for him and that I will get him home safely – and moments when I cry floods of devastated tears, hardly able to see the road ahead through my misery, cursing the men who's dirty sneak attack has led to this and hoping they all burn in hell.

And then the gates to the mansion are ahead of us and I cry out with joy, knowing that help will soon be at hand.

"Logan, we're here! Ah got ya back safely, sugah!"

There is no answer, but I didn't expect one and, as I trigger the little switch next to the handgrip which transmits a code to open the gates, I likewise open my mind, screaming mentally for attention.

_Professor! Jean! Logan's hurt! Help me!_

_***We're on our way, Rogue***_

I take the turn into the driveway without slowing, narrowly missing the still opening gates. The bright lights of the mansion are now before me, beckoning me on, promising refuge and the welcome companionship of friends and family and my heart lifts with the knowledge that we're safe.

The front door opens to reveal Scott and Jean silhouetted against the light in the hallway and, distracted, I hit a rut in the gravel. The bike slews sideways, spilling us both to the ground, and sliding on its side to hit the porch steps with a resounding crash. Concerned for Logan, I scrabble to my knees, heedless of the cuts and scrapes on my hands caused by the sharp gravel, my thoughts for my lover and for him alone. He's not moving and I roll him onto his back just as Scott and Jean reach us.

"Jean, he's hurt! Help him! Please!"

They go down to their knees beside my lover and suddenly there are a pair of arms around me, pulling me back, giving Jean room to work and I look up into the fathomless blue eyes of our weather witch, Ororo, seeing my misery reflected there.

"Oh god, 'Ro, he's hurt. He's hurt so bad ……"

She strokes my hair, shushing me, assuring me that everything will be alright, that Logan will be fine, and I believe her, until she breaks off with a gasp and falls silent, and I look around to see what's wrong and find Jean staring at me with panic stricken eyes.

I pull away from Ororo's arms. "What's are you doing?" I demand. "Why aren't you helping him?"

I look from Jean to Logan, lying so still and silent on the ground, and I know. God help me, I know, and my heart breaks.

"No," I whisper and my voice breaks on the word. I look back to Jean and she's crying, silent tears rolling down her face and Scott is gathering her into his arms and my Logan is still lying on the ground.

"He's not breathing." Jean's voice is barely more than a whisper, but I can hear every word as if she were shouting in my ear. "He's dead, Rogue. Logan's dead ……"

**NEXT: **The X-Men have to come to terms with Logan's death.


	6. A Life Worth Living

Hey, everyone! Sorry for the evil cliffie last chapter, guys! I think I gave everyone quite a shock! But I do so love to tease y'all!

Many thanks for all your lovely reviews! Your input is greatly appreciated! Thanks to: **moviemom44, Comic-cake, Ren-stranger, MidLifeCrisis, legallygwen, Laudine **and **seargentlambchop!**

Christmas is almost upon us now, and I may not get the chance to update again before the big day, so I'll just take this chance to say have a great holiday, don't eat too much turkey, and I'll see you in the New Year! Peace and love to all!

**ooXoo**

**A Life Worth Living**

_Ah can't believe he's gone._

It seems like just minutes since we were making love in that perfect clearing, our whole lives before us promising nothing but the joyous union of two people completely in love. And now he's gone. And I'll never see his eyes light up with the amusement he tries so hard to conceal. I'll never feel the warm touch of his hand on mine or hear him breathe my name so tenderly. He's gone and he's taken my heart with him.

I'll never love again. How can any man ever compare to Logan?

_Oh dear Lord, ah never knew losing a loved one could be so painful ……_

I almost don't hear the knock that sounds at the door, but I ignore it anyway. They'll go away if I keep silent. I just want to lie here on Logan's bed, alone, and remember the nights we shared. We had so little time, but I'll remember the few days we had forever ……

The knock comes again, this time accompanied by a tentative query. "Rogue?"

It's Jubilee. She was in the hallway when I ran past her on my way to Logan's room, escaping the sight of my lover's torn and bloodied body being carried to the med-lab. I had to get away. I can't remember him like that. I need to remember him the way he was this afternoon – strong …… vital …… and so _alive._

I break down and bury my face in Logan's pillow, heaving huge breathless sobs.

"Rogue?" The door opens and my best friend looks in, her face registering shock as she notices me curled up on the bed. "Oh god, Rogue ……"

She crosses the floor quickly and I feel the bed tilt as she sits on the edge. Her hand touches my arm, tentatively. "Rogue? Speak to me, Rogue. I'm here for you."

"Jubilee?" I roll over, looking up at my friend with tear-stained eyes. "Oh god, Jubes, he's dead ……" And I fling myself into my friend's arms, crying helplessly, while she strokes my hair and just holds me, soothing me with meaningless whispered words.

It's some time before my sobs quieten, and she holds me all the while, making no demands of me, just allowing me to cry myself out. And I'm grateful for that, because I have no words right now – no words to describe how I feel, how empty my heart is without my love. How my life no longer has meaning.

I eventually push away from my friend – scooting back on the bed to lean against the headboard. I scrub the back of my hand across my eyes and Jubilee hands me a tissue from the box on the bedside table, into which I blow my nose noisily. Jubilee stays on the edge of the bed, saying nothing, just being there for me, giving me time to come to terms with my loss.

My loss ……..

_God, ah miss him so much …….._

We sit there for some time in silence, sharing each other's pain, listening to the sounds of the mansion going on around us. The sounds of life. I can hear muted voices from downstairs – Jubilee's left the bedroom door open and sounds seem to carry so well here – then an upraised voice, a door being slammed in anger. Something's going on. I look to Jubilee, but she only shakes her head. I guess she doesn't know what's happening either.

She makes to get up and close the door. "No, leave it." I feel so bad, but I don't want to be cut off right now. I wanted to be alone before, but now I think some part of me wants the door open so that I can listen for the sound of him coming back to me. I keep imagining I hear his booted feet coming along the hallway, but it's only the creaking of the mansion's old boards. But I can't bear to close the door – to shut him out.

I reach for another tissue and Jubilee takes it as a sign. She captures my hand with her own. "What happened, Rogue? If you want to talk about it now, I'm here."

"We were ambushed, Jubilee." The words come out of me in a rush – they can't be denied. And maybe if I say them fast enough, it'll all turn out to be some silly nightmare. "He …… Logan …… was shot and …… his healing factor just …… shut down. He wasn't healing and he just got worse and ……"

Jubilee leans forward. "They took him downstairs. Do you want to see him?"

"No! Yes ……" I sigh, heartsick and mentally confused. "Ah don't know, Jubes. Ah want to …… ah _should_ do ……. But ah don't want to see him all shot up like he was. It's …… not Logan ……"

"We don't have to go down now, if you don't want to," Jubilee assures me, gently. "There's time. We can go down in the morning, if you want to. Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

"Ah don't think ah _can _sleep, Jubilee."

"Rest then. Stay here. I'll go down to the kitchen and make some hot milk. My foster mom always swore by hot milk at times like these."

"Thanks, Jubes. That would be nice."

She makes to leave, but is brought up short by the sudden appearance of Scott in the open doorway. He looks around the room as if seeing it for the first time, and then turns his attention to the both of us sitting on the bed. No, to me. Jubilee, he ignores completely.

"The Professor wants to see you in his study, Rogue."

_Well, thanks for asking how ah'm doing, Scott. Ah'm doing fine, thank you, considering my lover's just been shot to death._

Jubilee, bless her, jumps immediately to my defence. "Well, you can tell the Professor she's not coming right now. In case you've not noticed, she's just lost someone dear to her and ……"

Jubilee might not have spoken at all. "That wasn't a request, Rogue. The Professor wants to see you and he meant now."

"That's the most hard-hearted ……"

I put my hand on Jubilee's arm, halting her tirade. "It's alright, Jubes. Ah'll go." Maybe keeping my mind occupied will take the pain away. Or at least lock it away for a time so that I can't feel it anymore.

I get to my feet and walk from the room. Scott steps back as Jubilee and I move past him into the hallway, but then I make him wait as I close the door behind me. This is Logan's room. I don't want anyone going in there but me.

We walk in silence down the hallway, but I can tell that Scott wants to say something and is holding himself back only by great effort. Jubilee trails along behind, unofficially becoming my watch-dog and letting me know without words needing to be said that she intends to accompany me to the Professor's study. I hope he doesn't try to keep her out. Jubilee is a force to be reckoned with when she's in protective mode.

A few of the students peek out of their rooms as we pass – I guess the news has travelled fast. Most duck back out of sight immediately, afraid to meet my eye, but Bobby raises a slow hand, his eyes reflecting my sadness, and I nod my head in recognition of his honesty.

At the top of the stairs, Scott can contain himself no longer and he finally decides to get his concerns off his chest, putting his hand out to bar the way as I make for the first step. "So what were you doing this evening, Rogue? What were you doing that just happened to involve you and Logan being shot at?"

"Ah don't think that's any of your business, Scott," I counter, putting my hand on the banister and turning to face him. "That's something ah will discuss with Xavier, and him alone."

I push past Scott's arm and put my foot on the first riser, only to jerk back up as Scott grabs my arm and pulls me around to face him. "Hey!"

"I know what you were doing out there, Rogue," he spits into my face. "You were fucking him in a field like some goddamn animal! Don't try to deny it!"

"Get off me!" I jerk my arm back, but his grip is tight and his fingers are starting to press into my arm, painfully. "You're hurting me!"

"You'd better let her go, Mr Summers." Jubilee has her hands up and I know she is just seconds away from unleashing her fireworks. "You may be a senior member of the X-Men, but you have no right to talk to her that way."

"I have every right, Jubilee, so keep your observations to yourself!" Scott glowers at my friend and then turns back to me, shaking my arm to keep my attention and making me wince with pain. His fingers are gonna leave bruises, I just know it. His visor flashes dangerously as he continues his verbal assault on me. "You know, I actually had a higher opinion of you, Rogue. But now ……?" He shakes his head, dismissively. "You disgust me, Rogue. You're nothing but a two bit whore ……!"

My fist connects sharply with Scott's face, sending him tumbling back against the wall with a startled gasp. Blood is pouring from his broken nose and he quickly adjusts his visor, which I have knocked askew. If not for his fast reflexes, me and Jubes would probably be nothing more than a memory right about now.

But all this is irrelevant as I stand over him, fists raised and fury sparking in my eyes. "I don't care who you think you are, Mister, but you will never speak to me like that again! Do you understand? Never!"

Scott looks up at me, nursing his wounded face. "You broke my nose, you little bitch!"

"Speak to me like that again, Scott, and I'll break more than your nose. Come on, Jubilee. The Professor's waiting." I march down the stairs and Jubilee tosses Scott a triumphant glare as she follows me.

By the time I reach the ground floor, I am shaking like a leaf and shock is beginning to set in. I collapse against the wall, clinging to a small table for support. "Oh m'ah god, Jubilee! Ah just decked Scott! Ah broke an X-Man's nose!"

"Well, he bloody well deserved it." As expected, Jubilee is completely in my corner and has no sympathy for the recipient of my fist. "He was well outta line, and he knew it."

"But what if he reports me to the Professor?" I counter. "Christ, Jubilee, ah'm gonna be expelled!"

"He can't expel you, you teach here," Jubilee informs me, reasonably.

"Fired then! What am ah gonna do?"

"Well, first off, we're gonna take you to see the Prof like he asked. We'll take everything from there." Jubilee helps me away from the table and supports me as she leads me down the hallway. Bless her. Whatever would I do without her?

My heart starts to pound painfully as we stop outside the Professor's study. Jubilee knocks twice and the Professor's rich tones bid us enter.

He rolls forward to greet us as we open the door and go in, and his face is warm and friendly. The room is empty apart from himself and Storm, who is sitting quietly in a chair near his desk.

"Welcome, Rogue. I thought you might like some company, so I arranged for Ororo to attend, but I see that you've brought your own moral support." He indicates my watch-dog.

I step forward, face repentant. It's best if I get what I've just done to Scott out in the open as soon as possible. "Professor, ah ……"

Xavier holds up a hand, stopping me in mid confession. "I know what just transpired between you and Scott, Rogue, and rest assured that I will not be expelling you, or firing you, or exacting any other form of punishment your mind sees fit to conjure up. Scott has been informed that he is not welcome in my presence until his attitude is adjusted. It will not happen again, Rogue, I assure you."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Now, Rogue, I need you to tell me exactly what transpired this evening." The Professor turns and begins to motor back to his desk, leaving me to sink into the remaining chair. Jubilee stands protectively at my side. "I am sorry for making you re-live the events so soon after they occurred, but time is of the essence if we are to find out exactly why and how Wolverine was killed. Jean and Henry are currently conducting an autopsy, but your first hand experience of the affair would be most valuable."

"An autopsy?" My face pales and I lean forward in my seat, actually feeling sick. "Oh god ……"

"I am sorry, Rogue, but it is necessary if we are to find out how Wolverine's healing factor was negated. As is your testimony. So, please, leave nothing out. The slightest detail could be of the utmost importance."

I nod, shakily, taking a deep breath to calm myself and trying not to think of what Jean and Henry are doing to Logan down in the med-lab. Fighting back the tears, I begin my story.

I leave nothing out.

**oooOOOooo**

_Where the hell am I?_

The last thing I remember was being shot at in my clearin', but this definitely ain't my clearin' anymore. An' where's Marie? An' my bike?!

I look down at the snow beneath my feet an' then back up to the trees towerin' high above me. Somethin' about this place seems strangely familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Have I been here before? A little naggin' voice at the back o' my head is tellin' me this place is important to me, but I don't remember jack-squat. _Well, ain't that a bitch?_

If I'm gonna find out where I am, I guess I'd better start walkin'. Can't stand around in the snow all day – I ain't exactly dressed for winter weather. I turn full circle, tryin' to get my bearin's, then shrug, pickin' a direction at random. I'll head up-hill. Maybe I'll spot a familiar landmark?

The more I walk, the more I become convinced I've been here before. Little things keep jumpin' out at me, pullin' at my memory, callin' to me. But I can't figure it out an' it's really startin' to piss me off when I break outta the tree-line to find myself standin' on a high plateau, with a mountainous vista all around me. The beauty o' the scenery takes my breath away an' I stand for a moment, lettin' the peace an' serenity wash over me.

_I know this place. __I'm sure of it._

Pullin' my gaze from the mountains, I glance around the plateau an' notice a small cabin not far away, smoke curlin' idly from its single chimney. Again, I get that feelin' that this place is important to me in some way and, before I realise what I'm doin', I'm walkin' towards the cabin, intent on reachin' it an' goin' inside. If I can just get inside, everythin'll be alright.

The cabin calls to me as I get nearer an' I step onto the wooden porch with a feelin' o' trepidation – nervous for the first time in my life – or as near as I can remember, at any rate. This place is gettin' to me worse than I thought.

I reach out a hand an' the door opens easily at my touch, almost as though it had been waitin' for me. Bright light floods out, bathin' me in its warmth. I breathe deeply an' the place smells welcoming an' friendly.

It smells like home.

"Logan?"

I turn, startled, to find a woman standin' just off the porch, smilin' at me, her eyes warm with recognition. Again, I get that feelin' that she is important to me in some way, but no name jumps to my mind to accompany the image o' her.

"Do I know you?" I ask.

For a moment, her eyes cloud with sadness, so fleetin' that I think I've imagined it, but then her smile is back. "I don't know. Do you think you know me?" she asks, in return.

I should be surprised by her answer, but I'm not. Nothin' surprises me about this place anymore. I gesture around the plateau. "This place feels familiar to me," I reply.

She looks around, as if seein' the cabin for the first time. "It was a special place. Long ago." She nods towards the door. "Are you going inside?"

"I was plannin' to."

"Don't."

Now that _does_ surprise me. "Why not?" I ask, foldin' my arms an' rockin' back on one foot.

"Because it's not your time."

"My time? My time for what?"

She doesn't answer an' I look back at the doorway behind me. I can't see inside, past the light, but it still feels as though the place is callin' to me. I turn back to the woman. "Have you been inside?"

"No. Not since the other time."

"The other time o' what?" This woman talks in goddamn riddles! She's worse than McCoy!

She chooses to answer my question with another riddle. "Logan, if you go inside you will cease to be. It isn't your time."

"Y'know, this is startin' ta get annoyin'. I want answers, an' I want them now. "Look, lady, ya keep callin' me by name an' yet I don't know yours. Do you know me or not?"

That sad look is back in her eyes. "Yes, I knew you. Once. A long time ago. But you know another now." She gestures strangely with the fingers o' one hand an' an image appears in the air between us. An image of a girl sittin' on a bed bein' comforted by another. A girl I know well.

"Marie!"

"Yes, Logan, Marie. She needs you. You promised to protect her. And if you go in there ……" she nods towards the cabin, "…… you will never be able to keep that promise. You will cease to be. And you will never be able to go back."

I look back at the cabin an' then again at the image o' Marie an' my claws slowly slide out o' their housings, summoned by my distress. The cabin is callin' me home, but its voice is gettin' weaker now, more faint. I think it realises it's losin' me. 'Cause I know where I belong an' it ain't in the wilderness, alone an' unloved. It's with Marie – _my_ Marie …… Always has been, always will be.

"How do I get back?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

"Just walk away," responds the woman. "Walk into the image. Go back to her, Logan."

My claws sheath themselves with a decisive 'snakt' and I hold my head high. The decision is made – I know where I belong. An' I step down off the porch an' walk into the image ……

An' just like that, I'm gone ……

Behind me, Kayla Silverfox wipes away a single tear an' dismisses the image with a wave of her hand.

"Goodbye, my love ……" she whispers, softly, and calmly an' without fear, she walks into the cabin ……

**NEXT: **He's back! But he's far from well – Marie plays nurse!


	7. Angel at My Bedside

Hey, everyone! Hope y'all had a great Christmas! With the New Year fast approaching, I wish you all a prosperous and peaceful 2010!

A record amount of reviews for the last chapter! Many thanks to all who took the time to leave an opinion! **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Devil Rebel, immiD, Glykera, MidLifeCrisis, seargentlambchop, Laudine, CaptMacKenzie - **(I never write anything without a good reason for doing so. If Scott is acting like a dweeb, then ask yourself - Why?) **- Ren-stranger **and **Mrs Speer!**

Chapter Seven awaits - onward ...... !

**ooXoo**

**7. Angel a****t My Bedside**

Have you ever been hurt so badly that you can hear this dreadful high-pitched howlin' all around you, only to drift into consciousness to realise that the sound you can hear is the sound o' yourself, screamin' with the pain? Pain that goes so deep it feels like it's become a part of your soul, creepin' through your system like an evil disease, torturin' your very senses until you pray for the blessed release o' death?

I have.

An' believe me, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

I can't remember much o' the time between my journey to the cabin an' wakin' up alive an' well back at the mansion, only that I spent most of it driftin' in an' out o' consciousness, delirious as the fever ate at my body, sendin' nightmares that were almost as hard to fight as the pain. I have fleetin' images o' somethin' blue hoverin' above me as I cried out in agony, clenchin' my fists so hard that my claws would extend an' rend the sheets. Other times, a soft voiced angel would sit at my bedside, readin' stories from a leather-bound book, or just murmurin' to me in gentle soothin' tones, whisperin' words that I didn't understand but which banished the nightmares all the same, pavin' the way for blessed sleep.

An' then there were the times that the beast would exert its control, tryin' to take over while the man lay at death's door, rearin' up from the depths to claw, an' rend, an' scratch, all the while howlin' its bloody vengeance an' declarin' its dominance over those who would defend the man within. I have a feelin' I was restrained durin' these periods, heavy weights draggin' me down onto whatever I was tied to, keepin' me from movin', from hurtin' those who were only tryin' to help me.

If not for my angel, I woulda given in, allowed the beast to dominate. It seemed too easy – give him the control an' forget about the pain, forget about everythin' but the need to run free. Only my angel's voice was able to call me back from the dark side o' my soul – only she was able to convince me that there was somethin' – someone – waitin' for me to come back, to return from the worse times o' myself.

But, for the most part, my healin' factor kept me unconscious, slippin' me into the healin' coma that allows my body to repair life threatenin' injuries without further interference from its worst enemy – me. Sometimes I forget that I'm not completely indestructible – I will fight until I can fight no more …… until I'm so shot up, cut up, burned out or bloodied that I'm unrecognisable. The healin' coma is my body's way o' sayin' 'enough's enough'. It shuts me down, renderin' me immobile, allowin' my body to heal. It's slow, always painful an' leaves me with the devil of an appetite afterwards. But it's effective ……. an' it's kept me alive for longer than I can remember.

This time is no different. Given enough time, I'll recover from just about anythin'. I'm the proverbial bad penny. Whatever the bad guys do to me, I just keep bouncin' back.

Pity the healin' factor don't work on my memories as well as it works on my body. Now that would be a neat trick.

I can tell it's early mornin' when I open my eyes, finally free o' the burnin' fever that's been ravagin' my system for god knows how long. The curtains are drawn, but the light is dim and the mansion is fairly silent around me – durin' the day there's a constant rumble of footsteps up an' down the hallways, always a faint hum o' background conversation. The first tentative notes o' birdsong are just startin' to register to my enhanced hearin'.

I'm in my room. My _own _room, not some sterile place down in the med-lab, with the stink o' chemicals an' antiseptic that always sets me off. Somebody's obviously realised it would be safer to let me wake up here, rather than down in the lab, where I would be more than likely to come outta my coma with my claws unsheathed an' a howl on my lips. Safer for me, yeah. But infinitely safer for them.

So, _my _room – an' I'm not alone. I can hear someone movin' around in the bathroom. An' if the dominant scent weavin' around me is anythin' to go by, I know who it is, too. Eagerness to see my girl again prompts me to sit up in preparation for swingin' my legs outta bed.

Big mistake.

Pain! The moment I start to rise, red hot fire lances across my back, so severe that it forces an agonised gasp from my lips. I fall back to the pillows with a grunt. _Jesus!_ What the hell was that? An' why haven't I fully healed?

I close my eyes, tryin' to breathe around the dull ache in my bones, which is only now startin' to fade. I hear my bathroom door open an' Marie's scent wafts over me, slidin' down to my very soul an' makin' my breath catch with the realisation that she's near.

Her footsteps move to my bedside an' my nostrils flare as she leans over me, overwhelmin' me with her closeness. Somethin' cool an' damp is laid across my forehead an', as Marie draws back, I open my eyes an' look deep into the startlin' green orbs o' my lover, feelin' myself spirallin' away into their fathomless depths an' hearin' her breath catch in her throat as she realises I am awake.

"Logan?" Her voice is low, breathy, an' laced with no small measure o' hope.

"Marie ……" My throat is rough, dry an' painful, an' my response comes out as barely more than a croak. "Jesus ……!"

"Don't try to talk, sugah. You've taken some damage to your throat." Marie reaches for a glass o' water on the bedside table. Slidin' a hand under the back o' my neck, she tilts me up so that I can take a sip o' water from the glass. The cool liquid slides down my throat, quenchin' the fires that are burnin' there. I'm normally not a huge fan o' plain water – I'd much prefer a beer – but right now, this simple liquid tastes like the finest wine to me.

She takes the glass from my lips an' rests my head back on the pillow. Her eyes never leave mine as she places the glass back on the table, almost as though afraid to let me out of her sight. I close my eyes momentarily as a wave of dizziness passes over me, an' feel her hand tighten on my arm through the sheet.

"How ……?" Jesus, it's never been this hard to talk before. I cough an' try again. "How …… long ……?"

"How long were you out, sugah?" Marie thankfully fills in the blanks. "You've been unconscious for four days. You were delirious with fever for three of those." Her hands busy themselves smoothin' the sheets across my chest, almost as though she's afraid to continue. "You were …… you were dead for six hours, Logan. We …… ah thought I'd lost you."

_Dead?_ Memories of my strange encounter with the woman outside the cabin slip, unbidden, into my mind. The details are startin' to grow fuzzy, but I can still feel the sense o' belongin' flowin' from the simple dwellin'. An' the woman? Who was she? She said she knew me, but how? Were we lovers? An' if so, why did she send me back to Marie?

Was she dead too?

The confusion I'm feelin' must be showin' on my face 'cause Marie places a cool hand against my cheek. "Sugah? You still with me?"

I nod, not trustin' my voice. Marie smiles down at me, her eyes filled with such love an' devotion that I want to enfold her in my arms an' tell her that everythin's gonna be okay, but my body ain't feelin' too responsive right now an' I can't get my arms to move. I feel the bed tilt as she sits on the edge, an' all I can see are her beautiful green eyes getting' steadily bigger as she leans down to kiss me tenderly on the lips. I can feel a wetness on my cheek an' I realise she's cryin' an' I somehow find the strength o' will to raise my hand an' tangle it into her hair, runnin' the silky strands through my fingers as she traces my jawline with tiny pulse-shatterin' kisses. Her breath is hot on my skin as she nuzzles into my neck an' I tilt my head back to give her greater access, showin' her my love with the greatest sacrifice a feral can make.

Complete submission to his mate.

My mate ……? The admission crashes into my thoughts with all the subtlety of a thrown brick, but somehow it feels right. This woman in my arms …… Marie …… she's the other side o' myself. She fits my soul the way no other woman has ever done before her. Or ever will again. There's no goin' back now. We're bound body an' soul. The Wolverine an' his Rogue. The Beauty an' her Feral ……

If Marie is aware o' my sudden epiphany she makes no sign of it as she circles my ear with the tip of her tongue, makin' shivers ripple through my body at the silky sensation. "Ah thought ah'd lost you," she whispers, breathily, as she nuzzles closer. "You were gone so long an' ah thought m'ah heart would surely break."

"Marie ……" I croak, wantin' to reassure her that I'll never leave her again, but gettin' cut off abruptly as her finger touches my lips.

"Shh," she whispers against my ear. "Don't talk now. Just concentrate on gettin' your strength back. 'Cause when you're all well an' mended, ah'm gonna fuck you till your brains explode."

My mouth drops open with shock as Marie sits back, gigglin' at my expression. _What the ……?_ Did she just say what I think she just said? What the hell happened while I was away?

My Marie has become a hellcat.

An' damn me, I think I like it!

She tucks a finger under my chin and closes my mouth with a click, her eyes sparklin' with mischief. "Better close up there, sugah. Jean an' the others are comin' an' ya don't wanna look like a fish."

_Eh?_ As if on cue, there's a soft tap at the door an' it opens to admit the Professor, smilin' warmly. Jean an' Henry follow close behind, the latter wearin' his fightin' uniform. His fur is damp an', despite bein' blue, there's a flush to his face which suggests he was takin' advantage of an early mornin' Danger Room work-out before makin' this particular house call.

"Logan, welcome back to the land of the living." Xavier motors across the floor to park beside my bed, draggin' Jean an' Henry in his wake. "You gave us quite a scare, you know. Not quite out of the woods yet, I understand, but well on the road to recovery."

"How …… how did you ……?" Once again, my raspy throat fails me an' I slam my fist down onto the bedcovers beside me, annoyed with my inability to string a coherent sentence together. Marie pats my hand comfortingly an' gestures towards the glass on the bedside table, but I shake my head. I will not appear weak in front o' the Professor.

If he notices my discomfort, Xavier makes no mention of it. Instead, he nods, knowingly. "I think what you were trying to say is 'How did we know you were awake?'" I nod, silently. "I have been monitoring your state of mind constantly since you …… returned to us, Logan. It was important for us to know the minute you regained consciousness. I have some questions to ask concerning the attack on you and Rogue. I take it you have no idea who those men were, or who they could be working for?"

I shake my head in the negative, and Marie shifts agitatedly on the bed, laying a protective hand on my chest. "Is this really necessary, Professor? He's very weak an' ah don't think he's ready for this yet."

"He _must_ be ready, Rogue, there is no time to lose." Xavier's tone leaves no room for argument, and Marie huffs, unhappily. "As I told you on the evening of the attack, time is of the essence if we are to track down those responsible and find out why the attack occurred. Who were they and why did they want Logan dead? Will they try again? We must know, Rogue. My own investigations have turned up a little information, but I need the details Logan's own recollections can provide us with and I need them now. Do you understand?"

Marie nods slowly, an' the Professor motors back slightly, leavin' room at my bedside. "Henry, perhaps you could explain it all to Logan far better than I?"

The Beast steps forward with a huge grin plastered to his leonine but friendly face. "Logan! It is good to see you on the road to recovery at last. I am afraid our last meeting two days ago didn't go quite so well."

He pulls his jacket aside to reveal three slashes marrin' the fur on his right side. Claw slashes. My face pales as I realise I am the cause.

"Did …… I …….?"

"Oh, think nothing of it, my friend. It's all in a day's work for one such as I, and my own healing factor should have sorted out the worst of it in a few day's time, although it's nowhere near the league of your own, of course. I mean, to actually bring one back from death ……"

"Henry." The Professor's clipped tone pulls the Beast back to the here an' now, an' he actually looks abashed as he digs into his pocket for a small pair of spectacles an' props them on his nose. "I do apologise, Professor. I have a tendency to lose myself in my musings, do I not? To continue. Jean, the item, if you please."

He holds out his hand and Jean drops a small grey-lookin' piece o' metal into it. Henry holds it between thumb an' forefinger for me to see. "Do you recognise this?"

I do. It's a bullet. But before I can say anythin', the Professor speaks for me.

"He recognises it, Henry." He's obviously taken it upon himself to answer for me an' save my throat, but he'd better not do any rummagin' around in here. I take my privacy very seriously an' I get particularly tetchy when it comes to people messin' with my mind.

The Professor gives me a barely perceptible shake o' the head. _Oops._ I think he heard that.

Henry is waitin' to continue an' he gestures to the bullet as I return my attention to him. "We dug seven of these out of you, Logan." _Really? That many, huh? I kinda lost count after four. _"One of the bullets lodged in your left lung, which is why you're having trouble breathing. The one in the back of your neck is responsible for the damage to your throat. I'm sorry, Logan, but we'd already started the autopsy at that point, and there didn't seem to be any reason to be gentle."

Henry looks down at his feet, ashamed, an' I almost choke. _Jesus! Autopsy?_

Jean reaches over to place her hand on his arm. Her face looks a little too pale at this point an' I reckon I must have given 'em quite the shock when I came to on their operatin' table. _Must remember ta ask fer details ……_

"But back to the point, yes?" Henry makes a valiant effort to pull himself together an' steps nearer to the bed. He holds up the bullet. "This little piece of metal is carbonadium. As near as I can ascertain from my research, it was stumbled upon by a group of Russian scientists who were trying to synthesise adamantium in order to create their own version of Weapon X." _Oh, Christ, no …… _"Whether they were successful in this endeavour or not, is a fact I have been unable to determine. However, I _can _tell you that carbonadium is a more malleable form of your own prestigious metal. It is strong, but not indestructible. And Logan …… it cancels out your healing factor."

Henry carries on speakin', but I zone out, my mind dredgin' up nightmarish images from deep within, prompted by his choice o' words – carbonadium …… Weapon X …… Russian scientists …… I know this means somethin', but all I can see are metal-coloured tentacles, twistin' an' writhin' …… snow …… a flash o' some guy in fancy body armour …… and then that god-damn glass Genesis tank blots everythin' out an' suddenly I am drownin' in green-blue liquid ……

"Professor!" Marie screams as I fling out a fist in my panic, ejectin' my claws an' narrowly missin' Henry's leg. He leaps back out of harm's way as Marie throws herself across my chest, holdin' me down, shoutin' at me to sheath my claws, heedless o' the danger she's puttin' herself in. An' through it all, I can hear the Professor's voice in my head, talkin' to me, calmin' me …… chasin' away the nightmares ……

I'm pantin' hard by the time I come out o' my panic. Marie is still pressed across me, but I have sheathed my claws an' my chest is heavin' from my exertions. Marie cautiously pulls back as she realises I've quietened an' I grimace, apologetically.

"M'okay ……" I rasp.

She presses a soft hand to my cheek, her face a mask of concern, but it's the Professor's eyes, not Marie's, that draw my attention. They're blank, turned inwards as he searches within for answers to what has just occurred – searchin' my memories. _Jesus, he saw ……?_

My suspicions are confirmed moments later when he raises a hand to his forehead. "It is clear that you know something of this carbonadium, Logan, but as usual, the information is locked away where you are unable to access the information freely. However, you have given me much to think upon and I am sure this will prove most helpful once I have had the chance to meditate on what I have seen. The man wearing body armour, for instance, seems most familiar ……"

He breaks off an' looks around as Jean moves forward an' places a hand on his shoulder. She nods towards me. "I really think we should call it a day for now, Professor. Logan needs to rest."

"Of course, of course." Xavier actually looks embarrassed to be reminded of my condition. "I apologise, Logan. Rogue. We will depart at once."

This is makin' me look weak but, for once, I ain't gonna argue. My wakin' nightmare has left me feelin' achin' an' shaky – the hand that I unsheathed the claws from hasn't healed properly an' blood is oozin' from my knuckles. Marie takes my hand an' wraps it in a clean tissue almost as soon as I notice, hidin' the damage. To be brutally honest, I'm feelin' kinda woozy – my head is poundin' an' I would appreciate some peace an' quiet right about now.

Xavier is already beginnin' to motor towards the door. "Come, Henry. We must look into this some more. Meet me in the War Room in fifteen minutes."

"Aye, Professor." Henry bounds out of the door immediately, presumably to get changed, and the Professor pauses at the entrance to my room, lookin' back. "Rogue, would you like to be relieved? Jean will stay with Logan if you require rest."

"No, Professor, ah'm okay." Marie smiles down at me, tenderly. "He's my responsibility."

"As you wish. Come along, Jean, we have work to do." Xavier motors off down the hallway, oblivious to the fact that Jean has hung back. Or maybe not. He _is _a telepath after all, right?

Jean moves closer, bitin' her lip thoughtfully. With a cautious glance to Marie, she takes my hand in hers, mindful o' the bloodied tissue that is still wrapped around it. I scent a spike o' jealousy from my girl, but her outward demeanour remains unchanged, no doubt lullin' Jean into a false sense o' security. The redhead had better watch herself – my little hellcat will have her eyes out if she tries anythin' funny.

Jean leans over me, her green eyes dominatin' my vision. I used to be captivated by those eyes – longed to have 'em look at me the way they look at Scott – but I've learned that eyes full o' lust ain't as meaningful as eyes full o' love. I'll take Marie's eyes over Jean's any day.

I startle out o' my reverie as I feel the soft touch o' Jean's lips on mine an' I swear I hear a low growl rumble from Marie's throat. "I'm pleased you're going to be okay, Logan," the redhead whispers, silkily. She pulls back slightly an' smiles. "God knows the place would be too quiet without you. And who'd keep Scott on his toes?"

I snort through my nose as she releases my hand an' stands up, walkin' slowly to the door, where she turns around an' eyes me speculatively, as if a thought has just occurred to her. "Try not to get shot up again, Logan," she purrs. "I'd miss you panting after me."

After deliberately throwin' _that_ mornin's words back at me, she grins, slips through the door an' closes it softly behind her.

Marie is starin' after her, arms folded, a petulant frown on her face. "Brazen hussy!" She snorts, beginnin' to straighten my sheets, a little too roughly. "She'd better not be gettin' any ideas, that's all ah can say."

I capture one of her busy hands with my own an' bring it to my lips. "No …… chance ……" I croak. "Yer …… mine now …… Marie."

I think I've surprised her. Her lips form a perfect little 'O' of wonderment an' a blush colours her cheeks. I let a growl rumble in my chest an' her blush deepens, prettily. Never underestimate the power of a good growl.

She coughs to cover her embarrassment an' begins to peel the tissue away from my damaged hand. The cuts have healed now an' she dabs away the remainin' blood with a clean tissue. "Well, ah think that went fairly well," she declares, a little too cheerfully. "O' course, we coulda done without you springin' your claws again, but at least ya didn't shred the pillows this time."

_The pillows ……?_ Christ, I musta been a handful while I was healin'. My normal nightmares are bad enough, but fever induced nightmares ……? _Christ!_

Marie's expression softens as she notices my distress an' she pats my hand, lovingly. "Don't worry about it, sugah. We all know you couldn't help it an' Henry was the only one to get clawed anyway, an' he can take it." She slides my hand back under the covers an' pats them around me_. _"Get some rest, sugah. Ah'll look out for you while you sleep."

I growl warningly in my throat – _I'm the Wolverine, fer Chrissakes, an' no one mothers the Wolverine! –_ but she grins back at me unabashed. "Quit the growlin', y'hear? Your scary feral routine doesn't scare me!"

_Well, it damn well should do, _but somehow I can't find it in my heart to press the argument. My eyes suddenly seem to want to close o' their own volition an' the point I wanted to put across don't seem important no more.

As my healin' factor takes it upon itself to shut me down once more, her words echo in my head – _I'll watch out for you while you sleep – _an' bein' the big bad Wolverine don't seem such a big deal right now. 'Cause that's what mates do for each other. Right?

They watch out for each other.

An' suddenly it feels as though a great weight has been lifted from my heart ……

**NEXT: **With Wolverine on the mend, the rest of the students get in on the act!


	8. Alone in the Dark

Hey, everyone! Welcome to another chapter! And with this one I decided to take a break from the action and let Logan show his 'I'm feelin' sorry for myself' side! All men do it when they're ill - being the Wolverine makes Logan no different!! But we'll be back to all the death and mayhem pretty soon, I promise!

Many thanks to all my wonderful reviewers for the last chapter - **Comic-cake, moviemom44, desy, Ren-stranger, Laudine, lovingmama23, seargentlambchop, Mrs Speer, Glykera, immiD **and **MidLifeCrisis!** I really do appreciate the interest you're showing in this little adventure and I hope I continue to delight!

And now - onward! Somebody is sneaking around the mansion ..... !

**8. Alone in the Dark**

_***Thump***_

_Whuzzat?_

The sudden noise invades my dreams, jerkin' me from my sleep an' makin' the hair on the back o' my neck prickle with the realisation that someone is tryin' to get into my room. Tentatively, I test the air, the wanin' scent around me testament to the fact that Marie hasn't been near for a couple o' hours at least, an' I'm pretty sure that this ain't her - I taught her basic sneakiness better'n this. As my door clicks an' begins to open, I level out my breathin' an' feign sleep, tippin' my head so that I can keep half an eye on the door. Whoever my not-so-stealthy visitor is, they'll be sorry they tried to creep up on the Wolverine in the middle o' the night. Despite my healin' factor still not bein' up to scratch, I'm not exactly helpless here, y'know.

My room is dark, but I can still see the figure that slips silently around the door, pausin' to gesture animatedly to an accomplice who is still hoverin' uncertainly in the hallway. The second figure joins the first an' before my eyes can even begin to pick out facial details, their scent reaches me an' I groan inwardly, wishin' the ground would open up an' swallow me whole.

_Ah shit ……. I'm doomed ……_

It really couldn't be a lot worse. Magneto an' Sabretooth could waltz in here right now an' I wouldn't bat an eye. Hell, even Scooter would get a civil 'hello', right before I sent him packin' again. But I really musta done somethin' downright evil in a past life to warrant a sickbed visit from Jubilee an' Kitty.

_Maybe I kicked puppies, or somethin' …… ?_

The point is, it's almost three in the mornin' an' unless school rules have been relaxed drastically while I've been away with the fairies, these two should be safely tucked up in bed dreamin' about the latest movie heart-throb. An' I ain't talkin' about Remy Lefreakin'Beau here. He may be a heart-throb to some, but to me he's just a pain in the ass. Referrin' to yerself in the third person is not my idea o' sexy.

So I'm guessin' that my two visitors have a reason for sneakin' into my room at three in the mornin', although I'll be damned if I know what it is. They haven't just mistaken my door for theirs – I ain't pickin' up any trace o' alcohol so they ain't drunk. An' there ain't any alarms blarin' out in the hallway, so they haven't come to defend my honour against a sneak attack by the Brotherhood. To be honest, I'd rather go four rounds with Magneto than be cornered by Jubilee any day – at least _he _doesn't try to talk me to death while rippin' my claws out.

"Just put it on the bedside table, Jubes, and let's go." Kitty's whisper is loud to my sensitive ears as she looks fearfully around my room. "I really don't think we should be here."

"Chill, 'cat, we have permission." _They have? _"Besides, he's asleep. It's not as if he can hear us."

Okay, she really shouldn'ta said that, 'cause my evil sense o' humour is now picturin' all kinds o' mischief.

I'm just contemplatin' unsheathin' my claws to see what mayhem I can incite when I smell it …… Food ……

My mouth waters, an' suddenly I have more spit than I know what to do with.

Jubilee moves nearer an' the delicious smell o' roast chicken grows stronger. My stomach growls in response an' it takes all my self control not to leap from the bed, tackle the kid to the ground an' steal the food. I've normally got more restraint than this, I'm relieved to point out, but my healin' coma depletes my body's energy levels far faster than normal, with the result that once I'm awake I have to eat, quickly an' regularly. An' the smell o' that roast chicken now is drivin' me crazy.

Okay, so there are two ways I can play this. I can pretend to wake, get my food an' spend the next three hours havin' my ears pummelled by Jubilee's incessant chatter. Or I can play possum, wait until they leave an' eat my food in peace.

It's no contest. I'm really not sure my healin' factor can deal with the kind o' damage Jubilee can inflict on a person's sanity, so I opt for the lesser o' the two evils.

Unwisely, as it turns out.

Jubilee weaves across my darkened room, one hand held out in front o' her as she gropes her way to my bedside, the other holdin' a covered plate, an' the mouth-waterin' aroma o' the chicken is growin' more tantalisin' with each step she takes. I usually prefer my meat rare – on occasion, raw – but when my energy levels are this low I'll eat anythin'. I can almost taste the tender flesh in my mouth ……

She's only about a foot away when it happens …… Her toe snags on somethin' – the rug, a loose board, I dunno – an' she pitches forward, flingin' out a hand to arrest her fall …… a hand that comes down squarely an' heavily right on my groin.

I howl in pain an' shock, all pretense at sleep abandoned as Jubilee scrabbles backwards, her hands pressin' in all sorts o' awkward places in her haste to get off me.

"Oh shit! Lights, 'cat, quick!" she yells.

Through the haze o' pain, I realise what's gonna happen. "No!" I roar, flingin' out a hand to the figure still waitin' in the doorway, too late to stop her from gropin' for the light switch an' flippin' it down. Bright light floods my sensitive eyes an' I squeeze them shut with an' inventive curse, tryin' in vain to bury my head under the pillow. "Christ! Turn it off!"

The light disappears as abruptly as it came, leavin' me blinkin' at the blackness, my night vision completely overwhelmed. Colours are swimmin' before my eyes an' it takes me a minute to realise that they're real – Jubilee has generated a couple o' low level fireworks an' they're swirlin' around her hand, providin' enough light to see by, but not overload my enhanced eyesight. I groan as a wave o' dizziness washes over me. The sudden exertion has seriously taxed my depleted energy levels an' my throat is burnin', aggravated by my howl o' pain. Jesus, could it be any worse …… ?

Jubilee rocks back an' eyes me, innocently. "Hey, Wolvie. Did we wake you?"

I manage a fairly respectable growl. "No. I always lie awake at night waitin' fer kids ta fall on me." I collapse back onto the pillow, draggin' a hand across my tired eyes. My throat still hurts like the devil, but at least I can string sentences together now. _Well, hooray fer me. _"The hell ya doin' here, Jubilee? Ya got a death wish, or somethin'?"

"Peace, dude. We brought you something to eat. I thought you might wake up hungry and …… oh geez ……"

She breaks off in dismay, the fireworks liftin' to hover above her head as she notices the remnants o' the sandwich strewn all over my bed covers. "Oh no! It's ruined!" She flashes me a confident grin. "Don't worry, Wolvie, we'll throw this away an' make you another one."

I wish she'd stop callin' me that. How the hell am I supposed to keep up my bad-ass image in the field when she's yellin' out that stupid nickname to all an' sundry ……? _Wait ……. Did she just say ……?_

"No!" My sudden command makes her jump an' drop a piece o' lettuce, an' I take a calmin' breath an' try again. "It doesn't matter. Jus' give me the meat."

"But it's been on the bed," Jubilee protests, pickin' up one half o' the bread an' lookin' at it, sadly. "It'll be covered in fluff."

Right now, I couldn't care less if it's been buried in the garden for the last six months an' dug up by the mansion cat. I need it …… an' sooner rather than later. Preferably before I pass out.

I make a valiant effort to sit up, my eyes lockin' onto a piece of chicken that is restin' near the overturned plate. But I'm still too weak, god-dammit, an' I groan as my elbow gives way, depositin' me unceremoniously back onto the pillows. I can't believe it's come to this – betrayed by my own treacherous body in front of a pair o' flamin' kids. Embarrassment forces my eyes to close an' I wait for the blessed realease o' oblivion to catch up with me.

The smell o' chicken is suddenly strong under my nose an' I look up to see Kitty holdin' a piece for me. Her free hand alights gently on my shoulder. "Take it," she says, softly.

I absolutely refuse to be hand fed like some invalid, but it takes a great deal o' effort to raise a hand an' take that piece o' meat from her. She watches with a slight smile as I swallow it down almost without chewin'.

"More," I growl.

"The hell you doin', 'cat?" asks Jubilee, as Kitty reaches over to take the remains o' the sandwich out of her hands. She separates the meat from the bread an' passes some of it over to me with a heartfelt sigh.

"Don't you know anything, Jubilee?" Now that he's awake, he needs to replenish his energy levels fast, or he'll pass out."

"And you know this how?" The bed tilts slightly as Jubilee plants herself at the end of it, regarding us both with a quizzical expression. I dutifully ignore her an' concentrate on inhalin' the chicken Kitty is handin' me. _Thank god somebody in this madhouse has an ounce o' sense._

"I know this because he's a team-mate, Jubilee." Shadowcat treats her friend to a scathin' glance. "Don't you make it a point to learn about your team-mate's powers?"

"Not really, no." Jubilee doesn't look the slightest bit chastened by Kitty's apparent surprise, an' hands her friend another piece o' chicken. "Should I?"

"For heaven's sake, Jubilee!" Kitty throws up her hands in disgust. "Mr Summers says we should know everything we can about our team-mate's powers and weaknesses. It could be the difference between life or death while out in the field."

Bugger life or death in the field – I'm more concerned with the here an' now. Kitty is holdin' my lifeline an' I want it. I growl a reminder an' she dutifully hands it over.

Jubilee huffs an' watches me thoughtfully as I chew on the last piece o' meat. "So. You an' Rogue, huh?"

"Jubilee!"

"What, 'cat? I'm takin' an interest in my team-mate, like you said."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"S'okay, Kitty. I have no intention o' discussin' my private life with Jubilee. Or anyone else, fer that matter." The meat has taken the edge off my appetite an' I'm feelin' slightly lethargic or otherwise Jubilee's query would have been met with somethin' more than a sarcastic answer. I wave a hand vaguely in the direction o' the hallway. "Don't let the door hit ya on the way out."

"But it's not as though it's a secret. The whole school knows." Jubilee folds her arms an' looks at me expectantly, obviously not plannin' on leavin' any time soon. "Besides, Rogue couldn't wait to tell us that you'd taken her virginity out by the boathouse. By moonlight," she adds, her eyes sparkling.

"Christ!" I croak. I suspected Marie would boast to her friends, but I didn't expect her to go into explicit detail.

"I think it's romantic." Kitty sinks down onto the other side o' the bed with a wistful sigh an' suddenly I am surrounded. "I wish Bobby would make love to _me _under the stars."

"Think again, 'cat, it must be dreadfully uncivilised. Twigs an' stuff getting' tangled in your hair, rocks pokin' you in the back, an' grit findin' its way into your unmentionables. How's a girl supposed to look cool an' allurin' under those kinda conditions, huh?"

"Jubilee." I allow a growl to rumble around my chest an' hold up a fist, suggestively. In the space o' four seconds she's just taken my first night o' passion with Marie an' mangled it all to hell. Once again I gesture towards the door. "Much as I appreciate yer visit, I really would like some peace an' quiet right now an' I'm sure it's way past yer bedtime." The fact that my door is open an' no one has come to investigate my groin-squashin' howl o' pain suddenly registers. "Where the hell _is_ Rogue, anyway? Why isn't she here?" I try not to make it sound as though I'm whinin'. The Wolverine does not whine, dammit, but these kids are tryin' my patience.

"Oh, Rogue and the X-Men have gone on a mission," Jubilee tells me, easily, leanin' back on one hand.

"What, all of 'em?"

"Pretty much," replies Kitty, seriously. "The Professor is still here, of course. But all the senior guys have gone. There's just me an' Jubes left, and all the students over in the other wing."

_Christ, I'm all alone up here!_ The twosome from hell could pretty much do whatever they wanted to me right now an' no one would know, until the X-guys return an' find my gibberin' wreck of a body ……

_I hope Kitty doesn't bear a grudge about that tiger thing ……_

Shadowcat, however, gives every impression of being above such things. "I think they've gone on a pick-up," she informs me, helpfully. "I overheard the Professor telling Mr Summers that a young mutant had been cornered in a warehouse by a group of human rights protesters."

"Where?"

"Boston, I think."

"They haven't been gone long," Jubilee adds, cheerfully, makin' the fireworks dance around her head. I wish she'd stop doin' that, it's makin' me feel light-headed. "Rogue didn't want you to be left alone, so she asked us to look in on you."

"How nice o' her," I growl, through gritted teeth. We'll have words later. Her choice o' babysitters leaves a lot to be desired.

Suddenly feelin' my hundred or so years, I close my eyes, allowin' the last remnants o' my mate's scent to permeate my senses an' lettin' my mind conjure up the perfect image to go with it. I miss her …… I miss the way her gentle voice soothes me an' makes me feel like a better man. I miss the soft touch of her hand on my skin, eager for any kind o' contact after bein' so long denied, an' the way that touch sends electric shocks coursin' through my body. I miss her whisperin' my name as we make love in the silence o' the night ……

"She loves you, y'know." _Christ, are they still here? _I'm more out of it than I thought – lettin' my mind wander like that in front o' the kids. I open my eyes an' treat Jubilee to a glare. The firecracker merely grins back at me, lookin' perfectly at home perched on the end o' my bed. "God knows how she puts up with all the growling an' the manly posturing, but that's love for you. And I'd rather see her eyes looking at you all googly-like, than filled with tears at the thought of you being dead."

The wisdom o' that statement shakes me an' I nod in agreement, surprised to be actually agreein' with Jubilee about anythin'.

"Rogue said I was …… gone …… for six hours," I manage to force out.

Kitty nods in confirmation.

"I was in the hallway when they brought you in," adds Jubilee, with a grin. "God, there was blood everywhere. You were pretty gross."

"Thanks. I'll remember not ta bleed so much the next time I get shot."

"Do that, dude, it'll save a fortune on carpet cleaning bills. There's a stain at the bottom of the stairs that just won't shift, an' we've had bleach on it an' everything."

_I'm not even gonna ask ……_

"It was worse when you came back right in the middle of the autopsy," continues Kitty, with a frown. "You frightened Dr Grey so much that her mental scream gave everybody migraine for two days. And her psi-link with Mr Summers made him throw up all over the rec room carpet."

"Really?" _Well, hallelujah, there's a bright side to everythin', after all._

"He's not been around much the past few days," Jubilee informs me. "I think he's keeping out of Rogue's way, if you ask me."

"Oh? What for?" I ask, tryin' to stifle a yawn. That feelin' o' lethargy is makin' a return appearance an' is happily pointin' out the way to Coma City. Seems that I ain't done healin' yet. Must remember to thank Henry for cuttin' me all to hell ……

Jubilee grins widely at me, her teeth seemin' to glow in the light from her fireworks. I can feel myself startin' to zone out as she speaks …… "I'll let Rogue tell you that little story herself, dude! I think you'll get a kick outta it …… and …… he …… she says …… you just won't believe ……"

It's at this point that I realise my brain is wavin' a white flag an' surrenderin' to the healin' coma that is stealin' over my body once more. I struggle to resist it, unwillin' to pass out an' leave myself at the mercy o' the trainees from hell, but it's like tryin' to hold back the onset o' night, an' the next thing I know Kitty is smoothin' my sheets an' tuckin' them around me like a mother hen.

If I wasn't so far gone, I think I'd actually be kinda touched.

"Goodnight, Mr Logan," she whispers, softly. "We'll leave you alone now to sleep, but we'll check on you again later."

"Jus' don't fall on me again, 'kay?" my brain responds, fuzzily. "I'd like ta have kids one day."

"Whoo, lucky Rogue!" cheers Jubilee, as Kitty ushers her towards the door. "D'ya think she knows her boyfriend is planning on getting her pregnant?"

_Fer Chrissakes ……!_

The last thing I hear before black oblivion steals me away is Jubilee's stage whisper. "Well, that didn't go so bad. He's just a big ol' pussycat really …..!"

**NEXT: **A recovered Wolverine takes to the Danger Room …… and Rogue reveals a startling discovery!


	9. Lost Property

Hey, everyone! Welcome back! Well, this chapter kinda got the better of me! I _had_ planned for Marie to reveal a startling discovery, but somehow things just got outta hand and I've had to do two chapters where I had originally planned one! So hopefully, Marie's revelation will come in the next chapter!

Anyhoo, thanks once again for all the fab reviews! They are like music to my soul ..... **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Devil Rebel, notashamedtobesoilyfan, sniktchick, desy, Ren-stranger, xmngrl, Masanya, Ryromaniac **and **lovingmama23! **I love you all!!

And now, onward ...... ! The feral awakes ...... !

**9. Lost Property**

The next time I wake I am fully healed. I've been severely injured enough times in what I remember o' my life to know the difference instantly. I ease my body into a stretch, feelin' unused muscles give an' tendons pop, groanin' as I force out the kinks. It feels good to be movin' again, but I can already feel my hunger creepin' up on me an' I know I gotta replenish the energy the healin' coma has used up. An' sooner rather than later.

I throw back the bed covers an' ease my legs outta bed, surprised to find myself without a stitch o' clothin'. Whoever put me to bed musta had a rare eyeful an' I'm kinda hopin' it was Marie. Although, to be honest, it wouldn't kill me to know it was Jean. At least she'd have seen what a real man looks like. Scooter can't possibly compare.

Gingerly, I get to my feet, swayin' a bit as the altitude hits me. Grittin' my teeth, I stagger to the bathroom door, usin' the bedside table an' other pieces o' furniture for support. By the time I reach the bathroom my head is clearin' an' I lean on the sink an' stare at my reflection in the mirror. The face that greets me is unmistakably thinner, noticeably pale, an' there's a darkness around the eyes that I haven't seen in a long time. A good meal should take care o' that.

I reach up to tug at my hair. It's grown in the past few days, an' the crests it naturally grows into are stickin' up wilder than ever. For the briefest o' moments I consider choppin' it back, but then decide to leave it. It won't be the first time I've let my hair grow long an', to be honest, I kinda like it. I wonder briefly what Marie will think of it.

My muttonchops have grown too, but I'm definitely gonna trim those back. Xavier operates a strict dress code around the school – I manage to break it on a fairly regular basis – but I don't think he'll be too forgivin' if I appear in front o' the students lookin' like a wildman.

First things first though. I step into the shower an' crank up the heat, lettin' the hot water wash away the stink o' death. Someone's done a first rate job o' keepin' me clean while I've been out of it, but I can still smell the after-scent o' my own blood an' somethin' strangely metallic. Probably the bullets. I've got their scent now. Next time, I'll know their stink from a mile away.

I shampoo my hair vigorously, then rinse, finally givin' myself a finishin' sluice before steppin' outta the shower an' grabbin' a towel from the rail. A quick dryin' later an' I'm payin' attention to those shaggy muttonchops, snippin' 'em back to their previous length. I'm just finishin' up when my stomach growls loudly, remindin' me that I'm runnin' on empty. Time to beat a hasty retreat in search o' food. Just before leavin' the bathroom I glance in the mirror. No point in brushin' my hair – it only falls the way it wants to anyway – so I shake my head like a dog, splatterin' the wall tiles with drops o' water, an' stalk naked into the bedroom.

I'm just pullin' on my second boot, after dressin' in black tee an' jeans – an' here I must mention that my favourite leather jacket seems to be missin' from its customary place on the back o' the chair. Must remember to ask about it later – when I pick up a familiar incomin' scent an', seconds later, Marie enters. Her face lights up at the sight o' me an' she barrels into my arms, knocking me back with a grunt.

"Logan! You're up! How ya feeling, sugah?" She pulls back an' eyes me, suspiciously. "An' where do you think you're going?"

Much as I want Marie back in my arms where she belongs, there _are_ priorities to be met. "I'm hungry, Marie. I need food. I was on my way downstairs to raid the kitchen."

"No need, sugah!" Marie's eyes sparkle with happiness when she smiles an' if I wasn't so hungry right now I'd let her know exactly how that makes me feel. Instead, I let her tug me towards the door. "It's dinner time, Logan! Ah was just callin' in on ya to see if ya needed anything before heading down there myself."

Once the door is open, I can actually smell the aromas o' the meal in progress for myself. My mouth waters an' my stomach protests loudly as we head for the stairs. _Control yerself, big guy. Don't wanna drool in front o' yer girl._

Marie gives me a sideways glance. "Don't worry, sugah. We'll get you fixed up in no time."

Oh, the images those words provoke …… _Down, boy ……_

At the top o' the stairs my body decides to remind me that I'm runnin' on empty an' my head spins alarmingly when faced with the sudden drop. To cover up my discomfort, I take Marie's arm an' use it for support as we descend. With one hand on the rail an' the other tucked securely in the crook o' her elbow, I feel much safer but, if she ever suspects the truth I will have to kill her.

She keeps tight hold of me as we reach the ground floor hallway. She's either enjoyin' the contact or she's figured out that I'm still not quite myself yet an' she grins up at me encouragingly as we near the dinin' room. I can hear the general buzz o' conversation an' the staccato rattle o' plates an' suddenly the need to eat an' renew my energy levels is so strong that I nearly pull Marie off her feet as I quicken my pace an' barge through the door.

I'm so wrapped up in my own needs that I don't notice we are still arm in arm. Now it's worth mentionin' that it was never my intention to hide my relationship with Marie from anyone, but I usually shy away from public displays o' emotion. From _any _emotion, to be brutally honest, unless it's to give someone who deserves it a damn good thrashin'. So, for me an' Marie to suddenly appear in front o' the whole student body arm in arm, is akin to me wearin' a pink tee emblazoned with the words 'I love kittens'. It just isn't me.

An' as our faux pas is noticed, the whole damn dinin' room goes painfully quiet …….

Honestly, I swear I can hear the trees rustlin' in Japan.

Marie looks at our entwined arms an' then up at me, an' a tiny rueful smile tugs at the corners of her lips. I'm suddenly stricken with an inexplicable case o' paralysis – I don't want to remove her arm – it would be childish an' cruel, not to mention downright rude – but with all attention suddenly focused exclusively in our direction, I'm beginnin' to feel like a rabbit caught in headlights, an' my brain is screamin' _'Run, you fool!' _at me in no uncertain terms. I'm beginnin' to understand how one o' my victims feels, as 300 pounds o' angry Wolverine barrels towards them, wavin' a full fifty four inches or so o' indestructible adamantium clawage.

I'm just contemplatin' brazenin' it out an' lettin' rip with a snarl – jus' so's they know I ain't one to be trifled with, ya understand – when the whole student body suddenly breaks into unexpected an' spontaneous applause, an' to say I am taken aback would be somethin' of an understatement. Cutlery is rattled against glasses, fists are banged on tables, an' everyone gets to their feet, cheerin' and whoopin' as if the damn President himself has just walked in. Across the room, I can see Jubilee standin' on her chair, blowin' whistles around her fingers, an' Kitty is actually cryin'. _Cryin', _god-dammit!

_What the hell …… ?_

In the middle o' the chaos, Marie grabs my muttonchops an' pulls my face down to hers, where she captures my lips in a searin' kiss. For a split second, I am stunned, then instinct kicks in an' I surround her with my arms, leanin' in to give the clinch some serious attention.

An' jus' like that, I find myself kissin' my girl in front o' the whole damn school.

The applause reaches deafenin' levels an' I pull back slightly, gazin' into Marie's fathomless green eyes as I try to make some sense o' what's happenin'. She grins back at me, proudly.

"They've been worried about you, sugah, and are just happy to see you alive and well," she explains, snugglin' back into my embrace. "Everyone loves you, Logan." She lowers her voice to a pitch only I am able to hear. "But only ah get to make love to you tonight."

Well, with that kinda promise ringin' in my ears, I am only too happy to allow Marie to lead me to my usual table at the far end o' the room. The celebrations are beginnin' to die down now, as hungry people return to their meals, but several o' the older students are brave enough to reach out an' pat me on the back as we go past. Seems like my brush with death has impressed these folks somewhat. Hope they remember that the next time I head their survivalist trainin' ……

Half way to our table, Marie's attention is diverted by a wave from Storm an' we change direction mid-pace an' head for her table.

"Logan! It is good to see you on your feet again!" The white-haired beauty drags me into a fond embrace, an' suddenly I am surrounded by the scent o' rain an' wildflowers. Her hands on my back feel cool through my tee.

"Da, you gave us quite the scare." This from the big Russian bruiser seated on the other side o' the table. He's a decent guy – offered to help when Stryker an' his goons invaded the mansion a couple o' years back – an' I toss him an acknowledgin' nod.

"Don't go off and sit by yourself, Logan. Sit here with us for a change. We'd love to have you join us." Ororo indicates two empty seats an' I hesitate. Bein' sociable really ain't one o' my strong suits an' the weather witch is lookin' at me so hopefully that I really don't know how to let her down gently.

"Well ……" I begin, an' get no further as Marie pulls out an empty chair an' all but manhandles me into it. I grunt as my ass hits the seat an' Marie leans over my shoulder, lettin' her hair drape down my chest an' fillin' my senses with her heady scent.

"Wait here, sugah, ah'll go and get you something to eat." An' with that she is gone, leavin' me starin' around at my table companions like a loon.

Jean, seated to my left, reaches out to pat my knee. "The last few days have changed her in more ways than one, Logan," she tells me, confidentially. "I guess it was bound to happen, thinking you dead and all." She smiles, helpfully. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

She turns back to her meal, leavin' the way open for Henry to lean forward an' welcome me back to the fold. By the time Marie returns, bearin' two plates o' food, I have managed to behave myself an' pass the time in civil conversation with everyone at the table, bar one, an' it looks like _he_ ain't in the mood for idle chit-chat, at least with me. Marie looks pleased to find everyone still alive, an' gives me a beamin' smile as she takes her place beside me.

I have to hand it to my girl, she knows how to fill a guy's stomach. Particularly a guy who has been shot seven times, certified dead, autopsied, revived, an' spent the last four days in a healin' coma. The plate she places in front o' my nose is filled simply with steak – no fancy trimmin's, just steak. An' she's obviously hunted out the rarest pieces too, if the pink juices are anythin' to go by. Showin' her my impressive canines in a rare smile, I resist the impulse to pick the steaks up with my fingers an' rip into them with my teeth, optin' to go with the cutlery neatly laid out on the table before me for appearances sake. No cause to go upsettin' the natives.

I must admit, the first forkful sends me into somethin' of a feedin' frenzy, an' I blot out all conversation around me as I concentrate on inhalin' my meal. Mindful of my condition an' the need to fill myself with protein quickly, my table companions happily do everythin' in their power to prevent anythin' from hinderin' this process, although at no time do they make me feel uncomfortable or exclude me from the general flow of chatter goin' around the table. It's obvious I've been accepted into the fold, so to speak, an' the feelin' is a strange one. I haven't eaten with this much company in years, an' Marie keeps givin' me sidelong glances, almost as though checkin' I'm still there. I suddenly realise that, with all that's happened to me in the last few days, I've entered a whole new world. One where my brush with death an' Marie's unconditional acceptance of my feral nature has opened up a whole new vista of possibilities. I'd be a fool not to take advantage of them.

Yet, beneath all this, I can't shake the feelin' that somethin' is brewin'. It has nothin' to do with ambushes or carbonadium bullets, or even with mysterious women who wait outside cabins for the dead. But it has everythin' to do with a certain young X-Man, who is the only person at the table who hasn't acknowledged my presence. An' who doggedly refused to look up from his meal while all around him were celebratin' my return to health.

There's definitely somethin' eatin' Scott Summers ……

**oooOOOooo**

After devourin' five steaks an' a generous helpin' o' apple pie – which I didn't have the heart to refuse after young Rahne Sinclair was elected as spokesperson for her table an' pushed, wide-eyed, in my direction, clutchin' the overfull bowl in nervous hands – I am definitely feelin' much better an' in the mood to kill somethin'. Funny how I always want to dive right back into the action after bein' laid up for a few days. I can't say Marie is pleased with my idea – it's obvious she was hopin' to get me into bed for some major action of an entirely different variety, but she nods when I tell her that I need to let off some steam an' settles for a tanglin' o' tongues at the bottom o' the stairs before I stalk off in the direction o' the lower levels an' a date with the Danger Room. I think she woulda come with me if I'd let her, but she understands my need for freedom an' privacy now an' then, an' I catch her tiny wave of encouragement as the elevator doors close an' whisk me down to the nerve center o' the mansion.

I briefly consider fightin' in my jeans an' tee, but I've ruined one good pair o' jeans already this week an' I'm somethin' of a miser when it comes to buyin' clothes. So I drag my fightin' uniform out of its locker, suit up an' go to work. I programme one o' my favourite locations – the mountains o' northern Canada – an' then fill it with the evilest assortment o' bad-assess the computer can come up with.

Standin' ankle deep in pristine white snow, I unsheathe my claws an' prepare to unleash hell ……

Two hours later, I have worked up a healthy sweat, the computer has run outta opponents to throw at me but, more importantly, I am in possession of a far healthier mood than I had when I went in. The prospect o' claimin' Marie an' buryin' myself deep within her seems pretty good to me right now an', to this end, I forgo changin' back into my jeans an' tee an' head for the upper levels still dressed in my fightin' uniform. I'm lookin' forward to my girl tearin' it offa me anyway, so it seems pointless to change an' delay my pleasure. Besides, Marie seems to like me in the black leather – I used to catch her starin' at my ass now an' then, back in the days before she got control of her skin – an' I'm willin' to try anythin' once, if it'll result in great sex. Not that sex with Marie isn't great under normal conditions, but you get my drift, I'm sure.

Show me a woman who doesn't get all hot under the collar when faced with a feral in black leather, an' I'll show you a woman who needs to get her priorities straight.

I pass a group o' kids gathered in the hallway at the foot o' the stairs. They nod politely as I stalk past, but then break out into gales o' laughter as I start up. Five steps up, I pause an' turn slowly, knowin' a scowl has darkened my features. _The hell ……? They laughin' at __**me?"**_

One look at my face an' the kids suddenly realise they have an urgent need to be elsewhere. I continue to glare, until they turn a corner an' disappear from view, but the sound o' renewed laughter reaches my ears as I continue up the stairs. I almost turn around an' go back down to demand an explanation, an' only the firm grip on the banister keeps me goin' in my intended direction._ Get a grip, Logan. They ain't laughin' at you. Someone told a joke, that's all._

I tag Marie's scent as I move down the hallway. She's left my room an' she's now in her own, which suits me jus' fine. Hers is further along the hallway, with an empty room on each side. Less people to disturb when I get feisty an' make her scream my name.

As I reach out to Marie's door handle, I scent Storm comin' up the hallway behind me an' I turn to acknowledge her presence. She nods as she moves past, no doubt headin' for her attic room, her lips curlin' into an amused smile.

"I like the improvements you've made to your jacket, Logan. But I think you should remove it before going into the field, don't you? It is not exactly according to protocol."

"My jacket ……?" My brow creases into a confused frown an' I barely hear the sound o' 'Ro's amused laughter as I shrug out o' the heavy leather an' turn it around in my hands to inspect the back. What I see has me barrellin' through Marie's door with all the grace of an enraged bull elephant on speed.

"Marie!"

Marie is sprawled on the bed readin' a book an' she jumps at my less than subtle entrance. "Geez, Logan ……!"

"Have you seen this?" I throw my jacket down on the bed in front o' her. "It's one o' your friends, ain't it?" Unless I've missed my guess, this looks like one o' Jubilee's practical jokes. "I'll kill her, Marie, I swear it!"

Marie tries to hide a grin an' turns my jacket towards her so that she can read **'Property of** **the Rogue'** written in garish yellow clothes dye on the back. The words have been outlined in red glitter, for Chrissakes! "Oh, Logan, it's just a joke."

"A joke?" I spit back, angry beyond all tellin'. "Marie, some kids laughed at me in the hallway, fer Chrissakes! Storm's seen it! An' I fought Sabretooth in it! _Sabretooth, Marie!"_

"Oh, sugah, it's not as if he were the real one."

"That's not the point, Marie. The point is that that mouthy friend o' yers has ruined my uniform an' made me a laughin' stock!"

"A sense of humour really isn't your strong point, is it, sugah?" Marie smiles as she slips off the bed an' moves towards me, reachin' out a hand to caress my arm as she glides past an' closes the door with a soft click. I growl agitatedly as she snags her own fightin' jacket off the chair by the dresser an' spreads it out to display **'Property of the Wolverine'** written in the same eye-waterin' letters on the back. It'd actually be quite amusin' if I weren't so flamin' angry.

I run a hand through my hair, fightin' the urge to shred somethin'. Marie drapes the jacket over the back o' the chair an' walks slowly towards me, spreadin' her fingers across my chest. "You really gotta learn to lighten up, sugah. Don't take everything so seriously. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow or you'll explode." She runs a hand into my hair an', despite my annoyance, I close my eyes at the pleasant sensation. Her breath is warm on my cheek as she leans into me. "You're wound up tighter than a rattlesnake, lover. Don't you ever have fun?"

"Marie …… I ……"

"Shh." She presses a finger to my lips an' I open my eyes as she smiles back at me, mysteriously. "Ah can make you feel all better, hon, but you gotta trust me, okay?"

"I _do_ trust ya, Marie, ya know that."

"That's good. Because ….." She pauses a moment, as though thinkin' somethin' through, an' then comes to a decision. "Ah've had time to do a lot of thinkin' while you've been in that coma an' there's somethin' ah'd like to try, but you've gotta let me be in control. Think you can do that, hon?"

I hesitate, torn between my desire to find out what Marie is plannin' an' my dislike o' not bein' in control. She senses my unease an' presses her mouth to mine, bitin' gently at my lower lip. "Come on, lover. Ah promise you'll like it."

I nod before I even realise what I'm doin'. "Yes," I hear myself say.

Marie immediately steps back, eyeing me critically. "Okay. First, that shirt has definitely got to go. Take it off. Now!"

I allow a growl to rumble around my chest as I grasp the stretchy material o' my undershirt an' pull it over my head with one swift movement. I don't wanna give the impression that I'm easy but, at the same time, Marie's dominant tone is turnin' me on somethin' fierce. The beast within me roars its approval.

"That's better." Marie spreads her fingers against my chest once more, beginnin' to stroke me in a slow, regular pattern. My eyes drift closed o' their own accord an' I hear the smile in her voice as she talks to me, her tone low an' soothin'. "That's it, baby. Just relax. Let Marie do all the work."

A shiver runs through me as one hand circles lower, tracin' a line o' hair down to my navel. She circles it once – twice – slowly, languidly, occasionally dippin' a finger into the hollow. Distracted, I don't feel her leanin' in to me until her tongue flicks out to describe a lazy circle around the flattened nub of a nipple an' I gasp, breathlessly, as the aroused flesh instantly hardens.

I tangle my fingers into her hair, pushin' my chest forward – achin' for more contact – an' feelin' my body respond as her hand tires o' my navel an' dips steadily lower, skimmin' over the waistband o' my leathers to grab my crotch.

I tilt my head back with a groan, loosin' a hand from her hair to cover hers with mine an' press her fingers against my growin' erection. But I open my eyes, startled, when she slaps my hand away, an' I growl at the affront.

Marie steps back from me, her little hands bunchin' into fists on her hips. "No, sugah, ya don't get to play. I'm gonna make ya feel good, but ah have to do it my way, okay? Ah need to know if …… well, that doesn't matter right now, but it'll all be worth it in the end, ah promise."

She reaches for the hand she slapped an' begins to press little kisses to the skin between my knuckles. Where the claws come out. The symbolism isn't lost on me, an' I swear I can actually feel my eyes darken as my lust takes over an' my feral nature rushes to the fore.

With a rumblin' growl, I lower my head an' grant my mate complete and unconditional control o' my body.

Whatever happens now, I'm merely along for the ride ……

**NEXT: **Major smut alert!!


	10. Hers for the Taming

Hey, everyone! First off, you need to be aware that there is a **Serious Major Smut Alert** on this chapter! I'm not kidding! So if you are easily offended, or under-age, please do not read. I do not want to upset anyone. Chapter contains explicit sexual detail, domination and bad language - ie Logan!

I can honestly say this is the smuttiest chapter I've ever done! And if you think it's over the top and totally uncalled for then I apologise most profusely! But, as many of my readers know, I never write anything without a damn good reason for it, so rest assured what I've portrayed in this chapter will have far-reaching consequences in future chapters.

Once again, I thank all who reviewed the last chapter! This story is nothing without your input, guys! Major kudos to **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Devil Rebel, Laudine, xmngrl, notashamedtobesoilyfan, **and **lovingmama23! **Keep 'em coming, I love you all!

And now ...... onward! The story continues ...... !

**10. Hers for the Taming**

My head is spinnin' as Marie presses a hand flat against my stomach an' pushes me slowly backwards until the backs o' my knees are against the edge o' the bed. I can't believe what I've just agreed to do – what the hell was I thinkin'? Ferals dominate – they do not allow themselves to _be_ dominated. It goes against every instinct, every law o' nature. I must be outta my mind.

An' yet – Marie's my mate. I've already admitted that much to myself. An' ferals will sometimes submit to their mates – allow them to take control. Hell, I've already done it once, when I tilted my head back to allow her to kiss my throat. But this – whatever it is that Marie wants to do –this is so much more. Can I? – will I? – allow it to happen?

An' I guess that's the answer. If I allow Marie to take control – to dominate me – then she's truly my mate, no question about it. If not – if I stop her or try to take control – then she's not. It's as simple as that.

Simple? Yeah, right. So how am I gonna feel if I haveta stop her an' it turns out she's not my mate? How will Marie feel, for that matter?

Shit, this is getting' outta hand ……

_One step at a time, Logan. Let's take this one step at a time ……._

Marie is watchin' me with this strange look on her face, as if she knows I am tryin' to work this out. Her hand is still flat against my stomach an' now the other comes up to slide around my neck an' into my hair. I allow a soft growl to vibrate in my throat – not enough to scare her or make her think I'm takin' back control – but just enough to voice my approval. I like the feel of her hands in my hair. I can't quite put my finger on why, but the urges the feel of her fingers provokes in me could honestly get me arrested in at least five states ……

She takes a firm grip an' pulls my head down to her – not enough to hurt, but enough to tell me she means business. The lips she presses to mine are soft yet demandin', an' she begins to nibble at my lower lip, her tongue flickin' out every now an' then to taste an' soothe. Normally, by this stage, I would be tryin' to get my hands in all sorts o' interestin' places an', to be honest, I feel at a loss as to what to do with 'em right now. How far is Marie gonna take this 'no playin'' rule anyway? Can I hold her? Or would even that be takin' control an' end the game? Shit, I can't just stand here like a dummy ……

I finally settle for slidin' them around her waist an' lettin' them rest in the small of her back. If this is construed as goin' too far then I'll haveta admit my mistake an' call for a rematch. But Marie seems perfectly at home with this an' leans eagerly into my embrace as she seeks to deepen the kiss, nippin' sharply at my lip an' nudgin' insistently with her tongue. Normally, I'd make her work harder to gain the prize, but I know the rules so I immediately grant her access. Her tongue pushes roughly into my mouth, slidin' against my own an' claimin' its territory. I can't chase her back – that would be a definite no-no – so all I can do is rein in my instincts an' let her take exactly what she wants from me. My pulse is racin' as she ruthlessly plunders my mouth.

Takin' her time, she moves slightly to my side, freein' up the hand on my stomach, which begins to drift slowly lower now, grazin' over the waistband o' my fightin' leathers an' down to squeeze the growin' bulge between my legs. The lusty rumble that vibrates around my chest has nothin' to do with bein' submissive an' Marie knows it. Before I can take it back, her lips leave mine, her fingers tighten in my hair an' she yanks my head back sharply, exposin' my throat.

_Jesus ……!_

"Did ah say you could speak, Wolverine?" Her breath is hot on my neck as she nips sharply at my skin, wringin' a tortured groan from my lips. Usin' my codename means that she's talkin' to my feral side – assertin' her control over the beast within me. If I didn't know better I'd swear she was …… _No. She can't be. She doesn't know about that._

_Does she?_

"Show your submission to me, Wolverine." Marie tugs at my hair once more to emphasise her point an' I stifle the growl that wells up in my throat. If anyone else tried this trick with me, I'd be introducin' twenty odd inches o' adamantium to their gut pretty damn quick, but all I can think of right now is how turned on I'm gettin'. The hand at my crotch is slowly movin' up an' down, pressin' into my length through the thickness o' the leather pants an' all I wanna do is throw her to the bed an' take this girl hard an' fast. But I gotta control it. Marie has asked me to trust her – I don't know why, but I gotta do it. For her.

For my mate.

The pressure leaves my hair as she removes her hand, but I leave my head tilted back as she leans in closer, not quite touchin' but makin' my body shake all the same with the very presence of her. _God, I want her! I want her so much it fuckin' hurts!_

Her teeth close around my throat, effectively holdin' me in place as the hand at my pants flips open the fly button. I swallow thickly as she slowly unzips my zipper, click by agonisin' click, drawin' out the suspense. By the time my fly is fully open, I am so hard an' sensitive that if Marie were to say 'come', I would. She's always had a huge effect on me – she can make me feel as horny as hell with just one look – but this …… this is somethin' else entirely.

She releases my throat an' pulls back slightly, smilin' at me as though I've just passed some sort of test. I moisten my lips an' look down, followin' the track of her hands as they slide around my waist an' take a firm hold o' the waistband o' my pants. A nonchalant tip of her head catches my eye an' she winks at me coyly, right before she pushes my pants down to my knees.

I take in a deep shudderin' breath as my throbbin' cock is exposed to her hungry gaze. I wanna push it into her grasp, have her stroke me to a blessed release, but all I can do is huff a startled breath as she places both hands flat against my stomach an' pushes me down onto the bed.

She immediately goes to her knees at my feet, tuggin' off my boots one by one an' flingin' them across the room. The first one fetches up against the door with a thump, the second lodges under the computer desk set against the wall. When she tugs off my pants an' flings them behind her, I flop back on the bed with a groan, already anticipatin' what she's gonna do an' achin' for the feel of her hands on me.

In hindsight, I realise I had no idea what was comin' ……

She spreads my knees an' moves in between them, runnin' her hands slowly up the outsides o' my thighs. My cock jerks at the pleasure this induces an' I hear her draw in a soft breath as her hands stroke around to my inner thigh.

"You have such a beautiful cock, Wolverine. So thick. So hard. Is this all for me?"

_Jesus, is that my Marie? Where the hell did she learn to talk like that?_

I manage a nod, growlin' as her hands reach my knees an' start back up, her nails scratchin' gently along the skin an' makin' my balls clench. I groan as her fingers stop just short o' where I want them to be an' I realise she's havin' fun with this …… drawin' out the pleasure …… makin' me wait for the reward.

I fist my hands into the bed covers in an effort to stop myself from takin' her hands an' puttin' 'em where I want 'em to be.

Her fingers are drawin' little circles on my inner thigh just short o' my crotch an' I huff out a ragged breath. "Christ, Marie ……"

"You've been a good boy so far, Wolverine. You deserve a reward." One finger languidly strokes my cock from base to tip an' I almost shoot off the bed. "What would you like me to do, sugah?"

It takes a moment to get my thoughts in order. "Straddle me," I growl out. "Put me inside you."

"Oh no, sugah, ah'm not gonna do that." _She's not? _"Not yet, anyway." _Oh. _"Ah've got something else planned for my feisty feral."

An' she suddenly takes my balls in both hands an' squeezes …… _Hard._

"_Jesus ……!"_ My back arches off the bed as fireworks seem to go off in my lower body, sendin' pulses of intense pleasure radiatin' outwards. I feel a sharp pain in my knuckles an' I realise my claws have slid out a couple o' inches. "Oh, _Christ, _Marie ……"

"You like that, don't you, hon?"

I groan in reply as her fingers continue to knead an' caress my rapidly hardenin' balls an' she laughs, not unkindly, as my hips start to gyrate in time with her movements.

"Oh yes, you like that. Want me to do it again?"

She doesn't wait for a reply, an' I cry out hoarsely as her fingers squeeze me again. She's not tryin' to hurt, but she's usin' just enough pressure that the pleasure starts to border on exquisite pain. My body shudders with the intensity of it an' when I finally regain control o' my faculties I can feel a wetness at the end o' my cock.

"You're weeping, hon. Guess ah must be doing something right. Wonder what you taste like?"

_Oh Christ, does that mean ……?_

I feel her shift slightly an' then all I can do is groan deliriously as her soft wet tongue slides around the tip o' my cock, lappin' up my pre-cum. My balls tighten in her hands, as my own hands clench into the bed covers. _Sweet Jesus, this girl's gonna kill me ……!_

I crack open an eye as she pulls back, just in time to see the grin she flashes at me. It's lusty – almost feral-like – an' my breath catches in my throat.

"You taste good, hon. Ah like it. Wanna give me some more?"

My heart pounds almost painfully in my chest. _Oh god …… _"Uhhh, Marie ……"

"No, wait. Ah know how to get more."

An' before I can draw breath, she dips her head once more an' takes me fully into her mouth.

_HolyFuckin'SweetMother……!! _My eyes roll back an' my back arches as her warm mouth surrounds my throbbin' cock. She can't take me all in – not many women can – but she skilfully makes up for that, usin' one hand to caress my length while the other continues to knead my heavy balls. The combined pleasure-pain from three different modes o' stimuli all centered around one area is like nothin' I've ever felt before, an' all I can hope is that Marie remembered to lock her door because if one of her nosy friends walks in right now they're certainly gonna get an eyeful – the Wolverine spread-eagled naked on the bed like a sacrificial victim with the Rogue between his legs, givin' him the blow-job of his life.

An' then Marie's little tongue flicks into the slit at the tip o' my cock, as if searchin' for more o' my precious elixir, an' I couldn't care less if the whole school walked in right now an' took front row seats, 'cause all I wanna do is empty my load into the sweet mouth o' the girl who is sendin' me to places I haven't been in a long time. I wanna come so bad it's like holdin' back a dam threatenin' to burst, but I gotta contain it 'cause I don't want this to end too soon. I want this to continue until every nerve endin' in my body explodes with searin' fire.

Marie changes tactics an' begins to suck me, hard, takin' me in as far as she can go until I can feel my cock nudgin' the back of her throat. Her own desire makes her groan against me an' the vibrations ripple down my length, addin' to the pleasure an' resonatin' to my very soul. It's exquisite torture an' in short order she has me writhin' on the bed, my breath alternatin' between ragged pantin' an' lusty growls. My feral side is surfacin' an' I am almost incoherent, but I want more …… _need _more……

"Rrrraaauugh …… harder, Marie …… grrrrrwl …… wanna come fer you ……make me come …… So close …… So fuckin' close ……"

Obediently, she ups the pace, suckin' so hard I swear she's tryin' to siphon the come right outta me. My balls feel like steel as she kneads an' squeezes 'em an' my cock has never felt so hard under the combined stimuli o' both her hand an' mouth. I can feel her teeth grazin' my length every now an' then an' I throw my head back an' howl, lettin' myself go as my muscles begin to spasm, heraldin' my release. I can't hold it back anymore – I gotta come – I need to let it out. _Oh god, this is gonna be big ……_

With a hoarse cry, I come hard, feelin' the searin' heat rush through my cock in wave after pulsin' wave, my balls almost twistin' in Marie's grasp. I thrust upwards, oblivious to everythin' but the need to release, my very nerves afire with the force of my climax. I can feel my come pumpin' outta me – there seems no end to it – an' I groan helplessly, lost in the throes of sheer ecstasy. My climax is a long time calmin' but, as the last of the aftershocks shudder through my body, Marie squeezes my balls an' sucks my cock hard, an' suddenly I am comin' again, with no less intensity. Givin' myself over to another bone-shatterin' release, my pleasure-sodden brain registers surprise. _Jesus …… twice?_

The aftershocks seem to go on for an eternity this time an' I ride them to the best o' my ability, lettin' them carry me along to wherever they wanna take me. I really don't care. I jus' wanna lie here an' remember this moment for ever. Dimly, I feel the bed dip as Marie climbs on an' settles beside me an' then her lips are pressin' to mine an' I open my mouth an' let her enter, tastin' myself on her tongue an' growlin' at the message this conveys.

I didn't lose control. I let her dominate. She's my mate.

She's mine. To do with as I god-damn please.

I try to raise my hands to pull her down onto me, but somethin' is restrainin' them an' I snarl as unbidden memories flood into my sex-fogged an' slightly feral brain. Marie senses my unease an' pulls back, puttin' her hands gently on one o' my wrists.

"You've unsheathed your claws, sugah, anchoring yourself to the bed. Pull them in and you'll be able to move."

Her soft words penetrate an' I will my claws to sheath, surgin' to my knees the moment I am free an' leanin' possessively into her, tiltin' her back as I press my nose to her neck, scentin' her, re-affirmin' my dominance o' my Alpha female. She sighs softly as my breath warms her skin, placin' a splayed hand on my stomach an' pressin' deep as if to confirm our connection.

"Thank you, sugah," she whispers, softly, an' for the life o' me I can't figure out why. I'm too far gone now, an' it's an effort to think coherently much less remember. I feel her smile as I bite playfully at her ear-lobe. "Your turn now."

My turn? God-damn right it's my flamin' turn! My female has done her duty by pleasurin' her male an' getting' me ready to mate, now it's time to enter her an' claim what's mine.

I think she realises what she's unleashed when I pounce an' begin to rip at her clothin', usin' teeth an' hands – whatever seems the fastest – but, to her credit, she's not frightened, her scent merely confirmin' her acceptance an' arousal. Her tee is the first to go, almost torn from her body as I take the hem in my teeth an' rend the material apart. She puts up no resistance as I strip the rest of her clothin' away as easily, in fact helpin' to shuck her panties as I use my teeth to rip the catch of her front fastenin' bra. An' then she is below me, naked an' helpless, an' I crawl up the length of her, a feral growl rumblin' in my chest as the last o' my humanity is overpowered by the beast, tellin' my female the only way I can to prepare for mating.

There is no tenderness in me when I am like this – it's all bitin' an' scratchin' an' everythin' primal. It's a side o' me I never wanted Marie to see, although she came close the night I almost raped her. When I'm feral, I have no reason, no sense o' right an' wrong. The beast is selfish an' wants everythin' for himself. An' right now, the beast wants its female. I can only hope my mate is strong enough to survive the experience.

I am already fully erect again, rubbin' against my female's stomach as I hover above her. She reaches to take me in hand, but I slap her fingers away with a growled "No!" My female is young an' inexperienced, but she will learn my needs soon enough. I don't need any more pleasurin' – I am ready to mate.

She squeals as I flip her over an' position her on hands an' knees. Placin' one hand on the back of her neck to steady her, I push her upper body down slightly, makin' her rear end rise. I nudge her legs apart with my knee, spreadin' her before me.

She whimpers a little as she feels my cock brush her leg, but her scent tells me it's with anticipation, not fear, an' she bucks backward slightly, invitin' me to take her. Invitation or not, I take myself in hand an' push against her folds.

My female moans loudly as I mount her, properly voicin' her approval of bein' mated by such a big and virile male, tossin' her head as I push my cock deep with a single invasive thrust. I give her a moment to settle an' then begin to move inside her, slowly at first but quickly buildin' pace as I establish a rhythm. My female places her hands on the headboard to steady herself an' I lean over her, lockin' my teeth into the soft flesh between shoulder an' neck to demonstrate my dominance as I pound into her. She is breathless, pantin' with desire, an' I am proud to have such a responsive an' willin' female under me.

My pace quickens as I feel myself nearin' release. I relax my hold on my mate's neck, pullin' back an' changin' position slightly so that I can delve deeper, where my seed will do the most good, gruntin' with each frenzied thrust. I am almost there, head thrown back, teeth bared in a feral snarl, when a single coherent thought rises to the fore of my fogged brain.

"Rrrrrogue ........." I manage to growl out. "…… _comin'_……"

"Wolverine? Oh god, yes, Wolverine …… please …… _Please!!"_

Her words are meaningless to me, but the intent is clear, an' then nothin' matters as instinct takes over an' the need to come overwhelms me.

My mate's own climax hits just seconds later, prompted, no doubt, by the feel of my hot seed pumpin' into her. Her walls clamp around my cock, pullin' me in deeper, takin' me to the very core of her as I release my lifeforce within her.

As the aftershocks of our matin' shudder through my body, I clamp my teeth to her neck an' bite down, hard, hearin' her startled gasp as my teeth penetrate the skin an' mark her. I growl against her skin, tellin' her she is mine. She will mate with no other male but me. If she disobeys, I will kill my rival, an' mate with her again to demonstate my superiority.

Fully sated, I roll to my side, takin' her with me an' wrappin' myself around her, nuzzlin' into her neck an' soothin' the mark with my tongue, lettin' her know I am pleased with her. It was a good mating – many healthy cubs come from such a couplin' an' the female has a strong Alpha male to protect her if she quickens.

But there are other males in this place – I can smell them all around me – an' so I rub myself around my female, purrin' as I spread my scent. The other males will not touch her if they smell my scent on her, an' the female seems to appreciate this because she begins to touch me back, strokin' my chest an' murmurin' strange noises. The gesture is pointless. I will not take another mate while I have this one so markin' me with her scent has no purpose. But I like the feel of her hands on me so I let her continue.

As sleep claims me, I wrap my arms around her in a protective embrace, holdin' her tightly against me. But she seems restless an' tries to slide away, pullin' at my arm to make me let go. I growl an' bite the back of her neck to calm her, an' she finally lies still. We have mated – now it is time to sleep.

But she is young. An' she will learn.

I will teach her how to be a feral's mate ……

**NEXT:** Logan gets the urge …… to go cage fighting!


	11. An Itch to Scratch

Hi everyone! Welcome to another chapter!

I had a record amount of reviews for the last chapter! Thirteen!! Seems that everyone loves a sexy feral Logan! Oooh, yeah ...... ! Many thanks to **moviemom44, Comic-cake, legallygwen, BloodyFreaky, xmngrl, Sniktchick, seargentlambchop, Masanya, MidLifeCrisis, Laudine, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Ren-stranger **and **lovingmama23! **I appreciate your input!

And now ..... onward! Our scene opens in Rogue's room - the morning after!!

**11. ****An Itch to Scratch**

I awake the next mornin' with a light head an' the sense o' displacement that tells me I've recently taken a walk on the feral side. A small body curled up against my side warns me I'm not alone. Scent tells me it's Marie, an' she smells calm, so I ain't worried – at least I haven't hurt her. Room is thick with the smell o' sex though, so I'm guessin' we had a good time after I zoned out. Thing is, I can't remember much after Marie finished jackin' me off – just some shattered images o' naked limbs an' heated lips. Figures. Seems as though we had a wild night an' I can't remember it.

Story o' my life.

Marie stirs against me an' I tilt my head to look down at her. We fell asleep on top o' the bed covers an' the sight of her naked limbs pressed to mine raises a growl to my lips. I place my hand gently on her rounded hip, enjoyin' the feel of her softness against my palm, an' she mumbles softly in her sleep, words so low even I can't pick 'em out.

I allow my hand to drift along the curve of her hip, ghostin' along her ribs until I reach her breast. Feelin' myself growin' horny, I dip my hand an' pinch the dusky nipple. Marie stirs an' moans an' then opens an eye, her full lips drawin' back into a lazy smile as she sees me hoverin' above her.

"Hey, sugah."

"Hey, yerself," I respond, jauntily. My thumb grazes her hardenin' nipple an' she stretches languidly against me, displayin' her body shamelessly to my eyes. A ragged growl rumbles in my throat an' I can feel a tightenin' in my groin.

Marie's eyes drift steadily downwards an' give an exaggerated roll. "Oh, sugah, not again, surely? Isn't three times enough?"

"Three ……..?" I ask, before I can stop myself. _Christ, I can't remember any of it._

Marie palms my cheek, her eyes full o' love an' trust. "Ah've had a great time, sugah, really ah have, but ya've been at it most o' the night an' I'd really like to get some sleep. Three times is enough for any girl, even if ya did let me sleep a little between bouts."

I flop back to the pillows with a grunt, inwardly preenin' at her words. _Kept her at it all night, did I? Well, hooray fer me._

Wish I could remember it.

Marie snuggles back into my side, then reconsiders an' props herself up on one elbow so that she can look down on my face. "Next time though, sugah, ah'd appreciate it if ya'd let me go pee every now an' then. Each time ah tried to get away, you'd just wrap me in your arms an' pin me to the bed."

I have the grace to look apologetic an' Marie giggles an' leans down to kiss my mouth. Her hand rests lightly on my stomach an' I cover it with mine, trappin' it against me.

"I ain't complainin', sugah," she whispers, softly, flexin' her fingers against my skin an' makin' my cock stir in obvious interest. "All the growlin' an' the bitin' was kinda sexy. An' ah loved the purring."

I raise a confused eyebrow. "The what?"

"The purring, sugah. How d'ya do that, anyway?"

"Marie, I don't purr."

"Sure ya do, sweetie!"

"Marie, I'm tellin' ya, I don't purr. Ain't never purred in my life. Ain't about ta start now."

Marie quirks an eyebrow at me in a gesture remarkably similar to my own, an' kisses the end o' my nose. "You just go on believing that, sugah, an' we'll get along just fine, but ah swear you were rubbin' yourself all over me like a cat." She pauses an' eyes me, speculatively. "You got some sexy moves when you're feral, sugah. Ah like it!"

"Oh?" I let an evil leer cross my face. "I got news fer ya, Marie. I got some sexy moves when I'm _not _feral, too."

She squeals shrilly as I roll over an' pin her beneath me, buryin' my face in her neck, my hands roamin' her body. The squirmin' an' shimmyin' this invokes as she tries to get away from me ignites a fire in my belly an' I nip playfully at her neck, an aroused growl rumblin' in my chest an' vibratin' into hers, makin' her gasp in surprise.

It's no surprise that, thanks to my nose bein' buried in Marie's neck an' the sound o' her breathless squealin' in my ears, I miss the footsteps approachin' her door right until it opens.

"Hey, Roguey, don't forget we have that library project for Storm this morning and ……. Oh, _Shit!!_ Christ, guys, I'm _sorry!_ Shit!"

Jubilee backs off towards the door, a hand held dramatically over her eyes, as I growl a warnin'. Marie is gigglin' like a loon beneath me. S'okay for her. It's not _her_ ass on show for all to see.

"Quit growlin', I'm going! D'you realise I'm probably gonna be scarred for life after this?" Jubilee's free hand is scrabblin' for the door handle. "Next time, hang a sign on the door, or something, for Chrissakes! Yes, I'm _going!"_ The door begins to close, but she can't resist duckin' back into the room for a partin' shot, eyes completely uncovered. "By the way, nice ass, Wolvie!"

"Out!" I roar, reachin' behind me to grab a pillow, which I hurl at the grinnin' firecracker, unwittingly givin' her a glimpse of more than just my ass. Her eyes widen in surprised admiration.

"Oooh, Rogue! You lucky girl, you!" and then she is gone, but I can hear her laughin' all down the hallway.

"I hope yer not too attached to yer friend, Marie, 'cause I swear I'm gonna kill her one o' these days." I clap a hand to my forehead. "Shit! I forgot to have her over the jackets."

It doesn't help that Marie is laughin' so much that tears are runnin' down her cheeks. I manage an affronted glare, but this just seems to amuse her more. "Oh, Logan, ya shoulda seen your face!" she finally manages to force out between giggles, as I scowl down at her.

"Shit, Marie, when will ya ever learn ta lock yer door? What if she'd walked in last night?"

This sobers Marie right up. "Oh my! While ah was ……..?" A deep pink tinge colours her cheeks.

"Yer blushin' _now?"_ I ask, in surprise. "After what ya did last night? Christ, Marie, I can still feel yer fingers around my balls!"

Marie sits up in alarm. "Did ah hurt ya?"

I reach out to twine a platinum lock o' hair through my fingers. "No, darlin', ya didn't. Jus' kiddin'."

"Tease!"

I point to myself, feignin' surprise, an' she laughs, swingin' her legs off the bed an' standin' up. I growl an' make a half-hearted attempt to grab her, but she slips easily outta my reach.

"Come on, sugah, we gotta get up. Ah didn't realise it was so late, an' ah can't be late for Storm's class this morning. Besides, ah have a surprise for ya at breakfast."

"What kind o' surprise?" I ask, distractedly, lookin' around the room for my clothes. _Where the hell are my pants?_

"You'll see." Marie skips into the bathroom an' I hear the shower start up. I slide off the bed, immediately findin' one o' my boots at my feet, where it's been pushed by the openin' door, but the sound o' wet splashes distracts the search for the rest o' my attire an' I drop the boot on the bed, slippin' silently into the bathroom, which is already fogged with steamy vapour.

The sound o' the flowin' water covers my approach until I slide my arms around my girl's waist an' pull her to my chest.

"Oooh, Logan ……..!"

I gotta shower anyway. Makes sense to save water ……..

**oooOOOooo**

At breakfast, I am introduced to the two mutants the X-men rescued from Boston. _Two, ya ask? Ya thought they were goin' after one, right?_ Well, so did the X-men, but I'll get to that later.

Kid's name is Christopher Harper. Sixteen. Quiet. Still looks kinda shell-shocked, thanks to his treatment at the hands o' those damn human rights supporters, but he'll learn to relax soon enough. Likes to call himself Radial, due to bein' able to emit spherical shockwaves from his body. Great offensive power, so I'm guessin' Chuck'll have a field day with that one. If the kid is willin', that's another recruit for the cause.

My surprise turns out to be the second mutant – guy by the name o' Remy LeBeau, also known as Gambit. We met a couple o' years back in New Orleans. X-men were sent in to take down a local crimelord who was usin' young mutants as slave labour, an' the Thieves Guild sent LeBeau to lend a hand. Trouble is, he also claims to have met me before the New Orleans job, but I can't remember jack-shit o' any of it.

Anyway, turns out he was in Boston 'cause he's on the run from the Thieves Guild. An arranged marriage has been set up between LeBeau an' a girl from the Assassins Guild in an attempt to forge peace between the two. An' Remy? He ain't havin' none of it, an' took off. He was in Boston that night by chance, saw the X-Jet arrivin' to save the boy an' decided to hitch a free ride an' claim sanctuary. Chuck's a sucker for strays, so it seems he'll be an unofficial member o' the team for as long as he wants. Or at least until the Thieves Guild find him.

LeBeau an' the boy dined with the Professor in his private rooms last night – breakin' 'em in gently, or some such shit – but while Harper is characteristically quiet over his meal, LeBeau is the life an' soul o' the party, charmin' us with his pretty stories an' generally settin' the ladies' hearts poundin'. I'm okay with this – he can talk as much as he likes, as long as he don't expect me to contribute – but when he reaches over to steal a piece o' bacon from my girl's plate, I growl a warnin'.

He backs off immediately, but there's a knowin' twinkle in his devilish red eyes, an' Marie grins at me as I drain my coffee mug an' stand to head down to my first class in the Danger Room.

"Jealous, sugah?" she asks, in a whisper only my ears can hear, as I bend to kiss the top of her head in farewell.

"Jus' lettin' him know the lay o' the land," I retort, an' leave her to figure it out.

My defence class are already waitin' for me when I arrive at the Danger Room, minus fightin' jacket which still bears the fruits o' Jubilee's labours. Judgin' by the silly grins on their faces, it's obvious the firecracker has been enlightenin' 'em all as to what she saw in Rogue's room this mornin'.

Gotta put a stop to this shit right now, or they'll think they can walk all over me.

"Okay, listen up. Jus' cause I got laid last night, it don't mean I'm in a good mood this mornin'. I want ya ta pair up an' start warmin' up. We're gonna be workin' on hand ta hand today, an' here's the good news, kiddies. Yer gonna be takin' _me_ on, one on one."

Heartfelt groans. That'll teach 'em.

"Jubilee, front an' center. I want a word."

Kid actually looks scared as she approaches, but when I mention my jacket she quickly assures me that she used soluble dye, an' the writin' will come off with soap an' water. Good for her. Otherwise I'd be takin' the cost of a new jacket outta her allowance.

Nevertheless, I make sure to work her harder than the others durin' the two hours I've got the kids for trainin' an' she is sweatin' like a pig as they head for the showers, although she still finds the strength to pinch my ass as she stalks past.

Obviously thinks her friendship with my girl gives her diplomatic immunity.

Maybe a dunk in the pool will rid her o' that notion?

I hang back after class an' spend another hour dicin' up some Sentinels but, when the programme ends, I still feel antsy. Got too much nervous energy that I need to expend. Forget the Danger Room, what I need is a good old-fashioned brawl.

An' I know just how to get one.

After lunch, I make a few calls an' a couple o' hours later, I get a reply for my efforts. There's an illegal cage fight goin' down tonight in a small town called Beauford, about sixty miles away. No questions asked – winner takes all.

There's a predatory grin on my face as I stalk to Marie's room. If we set off straight away, we can make it to Beauford in time to check out the competition before the fightin' starts.

Marie is all for the idea, an' I know watchin' me fight makes her horny, so I'm in for a wild time tonight in more ways than one. We both change quickly – me into jeans, layered shirts an' boots, an' Marie into a pair o' jeans so tight they look sprayed on, a crop top that shows a mouth-waterin' amount o' bare flesh, an' a pair o' knee high, high heeled leather boots with silver studs embedded in the buckles. Dressed like that, I almost change my mind about fightin' an' bear her down to the bed to strip it all off her again, but my knuckles are itchin' to bury themselves in somebody's face, an' I'll still get to strip Marie later anyway.

I'm just headin' for the door when Marie reaches into her wardrobe an' produces my favourite leather jacket – the one that was missin'. I quirk an eyebrow at her as I poke my finger through a bullet hole in the back.

"Ah'm sorry, sugah. It got all shot up when we were ambushed. Ah was gonna get it mended, but ah figured you'd like to wear it tonight."

"No, don't bother, I kinda like it." I shrug into the jacket, checkin' out my reflection in the full length mirror. "Bullet holes make me look kinda bad-ass, don't ya think?"

Marie just laughs. "If you say so, sugah!"

Once again, I head for the door, stoppin' this time when I see my dog-tags lyin' on the bedside table. Snatchin' 'em up, I hand 'em to Marie. "Wear these."

"What for?" she asks, takin' 'em from me an' slippin' the chain over her head.

"Because yer mine," I reply, simply.

We head out, but down in the hallway we encounter the one person I really coulda done without this evenin'.

"Where're you going?" Scott asks, from the library doorway.

I respond with a snarl, but Marie favours him with a reply, albeit tinged with venom. "Out," she snaps. "To Beauford. Logan's gonna cage fight."

"Cage fight? Rogue, you let Logan go if he wants to bust heads that badly, but you're staying right …….."

"Come on." I grab Marie's hand an' pull her towards the garage door, ignorin' the rest o' Summers' tirade. If he's not careful, the head I'll be bustin' tonight will be his.

In the garage, I look around stupidly, peerin' between the cars. "Where the hell's my bike?"

Marie's hand flies to her mouth. "Oh, Logan, ah'm so sorry, ah forgot! It got all banged up in the crash. Pete dropped it off in town to be repaired, a couple of days ago."

"Crash?" I question, then shake my head. "Never mind, tell me later. We'll take the jeep."

The keys are in the ignition where I left 'em an' pretty soon we're on the road, headin' for Beauford. It feels kinda liberatin' to be outta the mansion an' Marie evidently feels it too 'cause she props her feet up on the dash an' leans back in her seat, givin' me a tasty view o' shapely leg.

She's quiet for a long time an' I figure she's fallen asleep, until she turns her head an' regards me with a guilty expression.

"What?" I ask, givin' her a sideways glance.

"Ah've got a confession to make, sugah."

I frown, suddenly fearin' the worse. "Go on."

She fiddles nervously with the hem of her top. "Well, last night, when ah …… you know …… asked you to trust me, I had an ulterior motive."

"What, ya suddenly turned bad an' decided to jack me ta death?" I raise a trademark eyebrow. "Got news fer ya, darlin', it didn't work."

"No, Logan, hear me out." She's all serious an' I turn to study her face, keepin' half an eye on the road. "Y'see, when ya were in the coma, Kitty an' me, we broke inta the Professor's files to try an' find out about ferals – to see if there was anythin' we could do to help ya." Her Southern accent is comin' out again – figure she's nervous. "An' we discovered …… that they ……"

"What, darlin'? Don't keep me in suspense here."

"That ferals will submit only to their mates," she blurts, all in a rush. "An' ah figured that if you …… an' I …… were truly mated ……"

"That I'd submit to you an' no one else," I finish for her. "So ya figured ya'd test me with some intense foreplay?" _I knew it! I said she was up to somethin', didn't I?_ I allow myself a taut laugh. "Hell, darlin', ya found out good an' proper, didn't ya?"

"You're not mad?" She looks at me shyly from beneath lowered lashes an' I take a hand off the wheel to cup her cheek.

"Hell, no, I'm not mad, darlin'. Ya gave me the best blow-job I can remember, how could I be mad at that?" I return my hand to the wheel an' give my attention to the road for a second or two as I pass a slow movin' truck. "So ya found out what ya wanted ta know. We're a mated pair. Know what else it means?"

"No."

"It means no fuckin' around, Marie. Ever." My voice is low an' ominous, even to my own ears, but she needs to hear this. "Ferals mate fer life. We're possessive, over-protective creatures, an' if anyone messes with our mates, or our mates fool around with anyone else, we take it personally."

"Then there's nothin' to worry about, because I'm a one man woman." Marie squares herself up an' looks me right in the eye. "I'm all yours, sugah."

"Damn straight," I agree, bangin' my hand on the steerin' wheel to cement the deal.

The rest o' the journey is spent companionably enough an' we pull into Beauford at around seven. There's not much to look at – just a few stores along a dusty main street, a couple o' industrial buildin's an' a scatterin' o' houses – the kinda place the cops ain't gonna look at twice. Which is probably why the cage fights are bein' held here.

We find the venue quickly enough – an old warehouse adjacent to the river. Place is in darkness - they're hardly gonna floodlight it an' announce the illegal set up to the general populace, are they? But there are enough cars already in the makeshift parkin' lot to let me know we're in the right place.

"Ya ready fer this?" I ask, getting' outta the jeep an' walkin' around to Marie's side o' the vehicle. I offer her my arm an' she takes it, eagerly.

"Sure am, sugah!"

"Then let's go kick some ass!"

**NEXT: **Cage fight! – need I say more?!


	12. Caged Aggression

Hey, everyone! Been trying to upload this chapter for the better part of a day with no luck - darn computer! It's now almost ten at night, I'm missing X-Men on the TV and I need a drink - badly!

Many thanks to my loyal reviewers! Contributions to the last chapter were made by **moviemom44, Comic-cake, desy (congratulations on being my 100th reviewer!) MidLifeCrisis, pepper-maroon, notashamedtobesoilyfan, lovingmama23, Laudine, Mrstrentreznor, BloodyFreaky **and **immiD!**

And now - the crowd is gathering for the cage fighting! Let mayhem commence ..... ! Oh, and a special guest star makes a surprise appearance this chapter! Can you guess who it is?!

**ooXoo**

**12. Caged Aggression**

A black clad figure stationed beside the warehouse's loadin' bay door lets me in with barely a glance at the **– **fake – ID I flash before his face. I'm guessin' he's seen my type before – lean, mean an' obviously cruisin' for a fight. Marie is another matter – he checks out her ID like he's expectin' to find somethin' wrong with it, but then I catch his eyes rovin' over the bare expanse of her midriff an' I realise he's stallin' for time, figurin' out how to chat her up. Plasterin' a glare onto my face, I snatch the ID outta his hand, grab Marie's an' drag her inside. Guy's lucky I didn't introduce his face to my fist the way he was all but droolin' over my girl. 'Course, I'd drool too, given half the chance, but it really ain't in keepin' with the bad-ass image, although I really should let Chuck get a good look at my head. What the hell was I thinkin' to let Marie come out with me dressed like that? Was I just askin' for her to be drooled over?

Yeah, Logan, admit it – you were. You wanted a pretty girl on your arm tonight, so that you could strut around an' show off. You wanted to flaunt your Alpha male status in front o' all the other guys an' maybe show Marie that she's pretty flamin' lucky to have such a damn fine mate.

Didn't you?

Okay. So sue me.

Quite a crowd has already gathered inside the warehouse, despite the almost empty parkin' lot. I'm guessin' that a lot o' folks left their cars some distance away an' walked in. Less chance o' attractin' police attention that way, but not so good if you need to make a quick getaway. Me, I prefer to keep my wheels nice an' close.

A bar has been set up against the far wall an' I'm just makin' a beeline for it when we are waylaid by a busty blonde wearin' cut off jeans an' a crop top that looks several sizes too small. She has a nice smile though, an' her eyes latch on to mine as she waves her clipboard at us, cheerily.

"Hi there! I'm Sheryl and I'll be your fight co-ordinator for this evening. Are you fighting or watching, honey?"

"Fightin'," I growl back.

That gets her attention an' she checks me out carefully, her gaze lingerin' on my crotch a little longer than necessary. She pulls a pen from behind her ear. "Okay, so I'll just get you signed in and then you'll be all set to go. What name do you fight under, honey?"

"Wolverine."

Sheryl writes that down quickly an' then gives me her full attention. "Okay, so here are the rules; there aren't any. Anything goes, but the use of weapons is strictly forbidden - fists, feet, teeth and any other body parts only. Entry fee is a hundred. Fight your bout and win – you stay in the cage. Lose and you're out, it's as simple as that. Last man standing wins the pot. Any questions?"

I shake my head. "I know what I'm doin'. I've fought before."

"Oooh, a veteran." Sheryl gives me an easy smile, totally ignorin' Marie who looks about ready to belt her one. "I thought you had the look of a pro about you." She sticks her pen back behind her ear. "I'll come and get you before your first bout, but feel free to relax until then. Fight starts at eight sharp."

I nod an' dig into my back pocket for my wallet, quickly producin' a handful o' notes. "So how many guys are already signed up to fight?" I ask, nonchalantly, as I hand them over.

Sheryl takes the notes an' tucks them down the front o' her top. "Including yourself, ten so far. But we're expecting a couple of guys in from Westchester and we've had advance notice of groups from Merryfield and Wagstaff, so there should be plenty of entertainment tonight." She pauses an' looks around her, then leans closer, conspiratorially. "Just between you and me, honey, most of the fighters look like pussies. Big guy like you shouldn't have any trouble keeping them in line." Her eyes quickly flick downwards, makin' her intent clear. "Now I couldn't help noticing that you have an impressive set of …… umm …… shoulders. Maybe you'd like a massage to help loosen you up before you fight?"

"He wouldn't." Marie steps forward an' I catch a whiff o' her scent. She smells …… well …… spiky, is the only way I can describe it.

Sheryl doesn't miss a beat. "Oh, hi, sweetie! What's your name?"

"Rogue." With a nice growl thrown in for good measure. _Atta girl._

"Wow, cool name! Are you his girl or his manager?"

"Both."

Sheryl actually looks crestfallen. "Shit. Well, can't blame a girl for trying. No hard feelings, huh, Rogue? Enjoy yourself tonight, honey. Give 'em hell!"

"Thanks. I intend to."

I make for the bar, but I am pulled up a couple o' steps later by a shout from Sheryl. "Hey! Wolverine?"

I turn an' she winks cheekily at me. "Nice ass you got there, honey." A quick wave of her clipboard an' she is gone, meltin' into the crowd to accost another new arrival.

Marie leans sideways to look behind me. "What is it with you an' your ass today, sugah?"

"Damned if I know." I continue my journey to the bar, lettin' Marie trot behind me to check out the goodies. I test her scent as we move through the crowd – she's alert an' excited, but there's no jealousy present, or malice towards Sheryl. She's obviously decided the blonde poses no threat.

The barkeep raises an eyebrow as we approach an' I order two beers, lettin' my much coveted ass claim a stool. Marie hops up onto the one beside me an' lets her eyes rove around the room. They are drawn inevitably to the imposin' metal cage set in the center o' the floor. She gets a strange look on her face an' I know she is remembering the day we met.

The barkeep bangs two beers down on the counter between us an' waggles his fingers at me for cash.

"Keep 'em comin'." I growl, an' he nods an' walks off, presumably to set up a tab.

Marie sips delicately at her bottle, but I drain half the contents o' mine in one go, belch manfully an' then start eyein' up the competition. I've never been beaten in a cage fight, but it don't hurt to know what you're up against.

Marie notices my intense gaze an' elbows me in the ribs to get my attention. "Whatchya doin'?"

"Checkin' out the fighters." I nod towards a Hispanic built like a brick outhouse a few feet away. "Guy's a pro, but he ain't gonna go the distance, even if _I _wasn't here."

Marie gives the guy a discreet glance. "How can you tell?"

"He's big, but it's all under-developed muscle," I explain, enjoyin' my chance to show off a little. "Got no strength behind a punch. Probably relies on his size an' weight to bring an opponent down."

Marie nods, wisely.

"Now, _that_ guy ……" I nod towards a mousey haired teenager showin' off his muscles – an' I use the term loosely here – to a faded redhead. " …… he's here to impress a girl. Won't last three minutes."

Marie chuckles an' raises her eyebrows. "You can tell all that just by lookin' at a guy?"

"Sure." I take a slug o' my beer. "I'm a predator, Marie. Wouldn't live long if I didn't know how ta bring down my prey."

Sheryl suddenly appears at my side, with a receipt for the hundred. "Here you go, honey. Got you pencilled in to fight third. Couldn't wait to see those shoulders of yours in action!"

She swirls off into the crowd before I can reply, leavin' Marie glarin' after her retreatin' back.

"She's harmless, Marie," I tell her, proppin' my elbow on the bar.

"I know." Marie huffs a breath an' narrows her eyes at me. "But she's flirting with you, Logan."

"So? Doesn't mean I gotta flirt back." I reach out to caress those platinum locks. "Got my girl right here."

Marie grins an' leans in for the kiss I graciously offer. She tastes o' cherry lip gloss an' beer an' I growl appreciatively into her mouth, before breakin' the clinch an' leanin' back with both elbows on the bar. Unconsciously, I realise I'm displayin' myself to all the other males in the room – the message I'm sendin' reads 'I'm big, I'm bad an' I ain't afraid o' you, Bub. You're goin' down."

A heavily muscled bald guy steps into the cage with a microphone, an' suddenly the tension in the room goes up several notches. There's a flurry o' posturin', flexin' o' muscles an' jacket strippin' as the fighters get ready. Marie tosses me a glance, but I shrug back. I ain't strippin' off until I'm ready to go into the cage.

The referee clears his throat loudly, attractin' everyone's attention. "Ladieeees and gentlemen! Let's get this show on the road!" Cheers an' whoops of excitement follow this announcement an' I snort into my beer. "Give a warm welcome to your reigning King of the Cage – Blackheart!"

The Hispanic steps into the cage to the accompaniment o' loud applause an' cheerin'. The referee gives him a moment or two to show off, which he takes full advantage of – flexin' an' preenin' for the ladies. Pansy-ass.

"And our first challenger of the evening – Nitro!"

A tall, lean fella steps into the cage, acceptin' the applause he gets with a gracious wave of his hand. Reminds me o' Scooter – same sorta build – but he ain't gonna last long against Blackheart. No stayin' power.

The referee rings a bell an' the first fight o' the evenin' is on. Nitro goes into immediate action, bouncin' around the larger guy like he's bein' pulled up an' down on a string from above. Blackheart swings, but the little guy just flips outta his way an' starts dancin' again, landin' a couple o' punches of his own, but not enough to cause the Hispanic any problems. The little guy is quick, I'll give him that, but he ain't gonna be able to keep up the pace for long.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, visibly tirin' an' sweatin' like a pig, he walks right into a roundhouse punch an' goes down like a ton o' bricks.

Round one an' Blackheart still rules the cage.

Nitro is carried out by two of his mates, his head lollin' from side to side, drunkenly.

The next challenger is the guy out to impress his girlfriend, with the unlikely name o' Mankiller. He looks terrified, an' when Blackheart rushes him with a fist held high he backpeddles across the cage with a yell, stoppin' only when the bars get in the way. Willin' hands around the outside o' the cage happily push him back to face the music.

It's no contest, an' he's out for the count in one minute twenty seconds.

His girlfriend is sobbin' hysterically as he's helped from the cage by the referee.

Sheryl makes a return appearance. "There's a ten minute break every two fights, honey. You're up next. Just enough time to get yourself ready."

I nod an' remove my jacket, drapin' it across the bar. Marie pulls it to her an' puts it across her knee, sendin' a silent message to all the guys standin' nearby – 'I'm his, don't mess with me.' When I strip off my shirt an' wifebeater, I raise a couple o' appreciative whistles from some nearby ladies, an' Sheryl nods an' flashes me a wink. "Nice!"

I leave my boots on my stool an' pad barefoot across the cold concrete floor to stand before the cage. As I look up at the metal bars, a wave o' nostalgia washes over me an' I close my eyes against a sudden rush o' memories.

…… _Keep this up,__ Stu, an' you'll lose more'n yer money……_

…… _Look out! ……_

…… _Get outta my bar, freak ……_

Takin' a calmin' breath, I open my eyes to see the referee beckonin' me into the cage. "Ladieees and gentlemen – I give you – the Wolverine!"

He draws the last syllable o' my name out into a lazy drawl, as the crowd greets my entrance to the cage with all the enthusiasm destined for a challenger who they think is gonna exit again pretty damn quick. I hope to disappoint 'em.

Blackheart is leanin' against the bars, bottle o' beer in hand, casually waitin' out his ten minute break. He looks relaxed, but he's checkin' me out, no doubt assessin' my strengths an' weaknesses the way I did with him. I pop my neck an' roll my shoulders, unconcerned. There's no way he can take me, but he don't know that yet.

An' before I _do _take him down, I intend to have a little fun first.

The ten minutes are up an' the referee rings the bell. Blackheart comes away from the bars like an express train, evidently hopin' to take me low an' hard. He's obviously figured me for a threat an' needs to take me out quick.

Trouble is, I ain't about to oblige him. Trouble for him, that is.

I evade his charge easily with a swift sidestep, bringin' my fist around into the small of his back as he goes past. The impact makes him stumble, an' he hits the floor hard, but he recovers quickly, jerks forward an' rams his fist into my solar plexus as I stalk towards him. I whuff air an' double over, givin' him time to get to his feet. His clenched fists on the back o' my neck make my head spin an' it is my turn to hit the floor.

With the sound o' the crowd's jeerin' ringin' in my ears, I roll over just in time to see the kick he's aimin' at my ribs. I'm tempted to let it land – he'll break his foot, but he'll also expose the presence o' my adamantium skeleton, an' then it's all she wrote. So I roll outta his reach, makin' him stagger when his kick doesn't land an', while he's unbalanced, I regain my footin' an' aim a pile-driver at his jaw. To his credit, he manages to duck just in time an' my fist simply parts his hair creatively. Havin' completed our first sortie, we part an' size each other up.

Okay, so I've convinced him I'm not gonna go down with a whimper, an' now he knows he's gonna have to work for the win. I can almost see the cogs whirrin' in his head as he figures out the fastest way to take me down.

We circle each other, weavin' an' feintin' as the mood takes us. I allow a couple o' his blows to land an' I know my initial assessment was correct – no strength. An' havin' proved my own theory, I decide to end the fight.

I let him land a punch, takin' it squarely on the jaw an' staggerin' slightly to let him think I'm dazed. Sensin' victory, he comes in for the kill, an' delivers a crackin' punch to the side o' my head. I drop to my knees, shakin' my head, feignin' weakness an' he prepares a cripplin' uppercut that would no doubt lay me out cold if I were an ordinary guy.

But I ain't no ordinary guy. The look on his face is priceless as I 'recover' from his onslaught, slip through his none-existant defence an' drop him to the cold concrete floor with a single punch.

Touchdown! The crowd goes wild!

An' just like that, I am the new King o' the Cage.

The referee acknowledges the crowd's new champion by liftin' my arm in a victory salute an' I allow a feral grin to cross my face, reapin' the rewards o' my labours.

Marie is up on her feet, leapin' up an' down with my jacket an' shirts in her arms, screamin' my name. Even without my enhanced hearin', I'd be able to hear her all the way over here. Her eyes are filled with such love an' pride at my win that I wanna go over there an' show my mate how pleased I am that she's rootin' for me, but Blackheart is bein' dragged outta the cage by two burly bouncers an' my first challenger is already waitin'.

The boringly named 'Dan' throws a lot o' fancy punches, but doesn't actually achieve anything. I show him no mercy, attackin' relentlessly, an' he screams 'uncle' when I pin him on the bars.

Even before the ten minute break is announced, I am outta the cage an' stridin' towards the bar. Marie puts my stuff across the stool an' all but bounces into my arms, wrappin' her long legs around my waist an' smotherin' my face an' lips with hot little kisses. Remember what I said about cage fightin' makin' my girl horny? Looks like I'm on a promise tonight.

I'm beginnin' to get some funny looks from the other guys at the bar, so I unwrap her legs an' let her slide slowly back down to the floor. Her face is flushed as she looks up at me.

"That was great, Logan! You're in!"

"Did ya ever doubt it?" I counter, flashin' the barkeep a quick look. I ain't got long an' I need beer.

"'Course not!" Marie wraps her arms around me an' rests her head on my chest. I can feel her fingers playin' in the small o' my back an' somethin' is definitely gettin' interested. As the barkeep hands me a bottle, I push her away from me gently, minimisin' the body contact. It really wouldn't be safe, or practical, to go back in the cage with a hard-on.

Sheryl is preparin' another fighter just a few feet down the bar an' she flashes me a cheery thumbs up. As I take a long, calmin' slug o' my beer, I wonder what her obvious interest in me is doin' for the confidence o' the other fighters.

My ten minute break seems to last all of five an' in short order I am bein' called back to the cage. Marie gives me a good luck peck on the cheek before settlin' back onto her stool with my stuff, an' I enter the gladiatorial arena an' await my next opponent.

Turns out 'Jean-Claude' fancies himself as a bit of a kickboxer an' actually gives me a run for my money, landin' several solid kicks an' makin' my head spin with a roundhouse punch that I didn't see comin' 'cause I was too busy watchin' his damn feet. It won't happen again. I bide my time, lettin' him dance around me an' launch a few kicks which I either deflect or allow to land in order to analyse his style. I finally clock the way his weight shifts subtly just as he's about to move, an' the next time he lets loose with a kick to my head I catch his leg mid-spin, flip him over in the air an' punch the back of his head as he goes down. He hits the floor hard an' doesn't move.

The crowd are cheerin' an' whoopin', obviously sensin' a winner, an' I flash Marie a look o' triumph. She salutes me with her beer bottle an' I turn to face my next opponent.

'Bonebreaker' is somethin' else entirely. He's massively built an' it's all muscle, an' it doesn't take a genius to figure out he knows how to use it. He cracks his knuckles as we eye each other up, an' his face breaks into a knowin' smile.

The bell rings an' we begin to stalk each other in an unwary circle. Strange as it may sound, he's got the advantage here – he's seen me fight, an' he's had time to analyse my style. I'm goin' into this blind. He's obviously not willin' to throw the first punch. So I gotta do somethin' unexpected.

I drop into a roll, comin' out with my leg extended to sweep the others' out from under him. My move has taken him by surprise, but he recovers in time to evade my kick, an' throws a punch to my exposed head. I back-flip an' the blow goes wild, leavin' Bonebreaker wide open. Before he can recover, I slip through his defences an' deliver a choppin' blow to his kidneys. Bonebreaker yells an' staggers back an' I back off again, as the stalkin' begins anew.

"You're good." I am startled when Bonebreaker addresses me directly. The cage ain't exactly the place for casual conversation. I grunt a non-committal reply, an' Bonebreaker tilts his head, curiously. "You think you've got me beat, don't you, Wolverine? But I've been watchin' you an' I know your weaknesses."

My weaknesses? I wasn't aware I had any.

"I know you're sweet on that pretty little brunette out there. The one with the platinum streaks?" He nods outta the cage an' just for a second my eyes are drawn to Marie, still yellin' my name enthusiastically, unaware that she's now the center o' attention. A crazed growl vibrates deep in my throat at the implied threat to her safety.

"Y'see, Wolverine, I'm here tonight with some good friends o' mine. An' if I don't win this bout, those friends are gonna wait until your next fight an' take her outside for some …… alternate …… entertainment."

The growl goes up a notch an' I bare my teeth in a feral snarl. It's an empty threat, I'm sure of it, but I can't stop the hackles risin' on the back o' my neck.

"An' just in case you think I'm jokin', my friends have already spiked your girl's beer while she wasn't lookin'. It won't knock her out, but it'll make her more …… compliant and willin' for a good fuck."

"Rrrrraaaauugh!" The saner portion o' my brain is tellin' me his words are a ruse to get me to throw the fight, but the animal within me is strugglin' to the fore, takin' the threat to its mate's safety seriously. Bonebreaker's smile is humourless as we slowly circle each other.

"You don't believe me? Take a look, Wolverine."

My eyes slide towards Marie once again, hopin' to find her unharmed an' well. An' the guy standin' beside her raises his beer bottle to me in salute .......

Somethin' inside me snaps an' I hurl myself at Bonebreaker, howlin' like a madman. The crowd goes crazy as we clash in the center o' the cage, fists flyin', an' I feel a sharp pain across my face as somethin' slices my cheek open.

A ring! He's cut me with a flamin' ring!

I spin away from Bonebreaker, questin' fingers feelin' my cheek an' comin' away red with blood. For a second, I'm tempted to wipe it away, but I haven't lived this long by bein' careless an' I leave it. The blood will cover all traces o' the skin healin' beneath.

I lick the blood away from my fingers, sensin' a red haze flickerin' on the edges o' my vision. I'm goin' feral, but I can't – not here – not now. My mate is in danger …… must protect ……

Bonebreaker is beckonin' me in an' I let go, barrellin' towards him in a fightin' crouch. We seem to be headin' for contact but, at the last second, I duck left an' his fist whistles harmlessly through my hair. My own pile-driver connects solidly with his jaw, makin' him grunt in pain an' shock. The force of it sends him into a spectacular mid-air somersault an' I am on him before he can even hit the floor, pummellin' his face relentlessly into the concrete.

It takes the referee an' two bouncers to pull me off an', by that time, the crowd are howlin' for more, whipped into a frenzy by the sight o' first blood. As I come to my senses, I shrug them off, shovin' my way outta the cage an' through the cheerin' crowd towards the bar, my one thought to reach Marie an' warn her o' the danger. She'll be okay while I'm with her, but I gotta tell her to keep her power on while I'm in the cage. If anyone tries anythin' funny with her, they'll go out like a light.

As the crowd thins an' I near the bar, I am just in time to see the guy standin' next to her put his arm around her shoulder ……

**NEXT: **So is Wolvie gonna win this thing or not? Care to place a bet?!


	13. No Pain, No Gain

Hey, everyone! Here's another chapter, for all you eager readers out there!

As always, my faithful band of reviewers has done me proud! Heartfelt thanks to **moviemom44, Comic-cake - **(Good luck on your big day!) - **pinkdrama, Wolf Eos, lovingmama23, Ren-stranger, desy, alexmonalisa, xmngrl, Snow leopard freak, Laudine, pepper-maroon, Sniktchick **and **notashamedtobesoilyfan!**

And now, cage fight continues! Enjoy ......!

**ooXoo**

**13. ****No Pain, No Gain**

"Get yer hands _off _her, bub!"

Marie lets out a startled squeak as I grab the guy's shoulder an' swing him away from her, pinnin' him against the bar with my left hand around his throat. My right fist is pulled back, ready to release the first crushin' blow. There is a flurry o' movement as the guys nearest us suddenly develop a desire to do their drinkin someplace safer an' I lean in close, allowin' my lips to pull back, knowin' the sight o' my canines can instil all sorts o' fear in my prey. "Ya got ten seconds ta save yer life, pal. Start talkin'. Who're ya with?"

"Logan, the _hell_ …….?" Marie pushes in close, her eyes suddenly afraid, not for herself, but for what I might do. "Let go of him, Logan, he hasn't done anything. We were just talking."

I turn slightly an' she recoils from the shadow of the beast in my eyes. "Jus' talkin', Marie? _Talkin'? _This guy was gonna rape ya, Marie. Him an' his friends were gonna take ya outside an' fuck ya senseless, do ya understand me?"

"But …….."

She is genuinely confused, but I haven't got time to convince her of this guy's intentions. His pals are lurkin' in this warehouse somewhere, waitin' to get their hands on my girl an' I ain't gonna rest until I've found every last one of 'em an' made 'em pay.

I tighten my grip on the guy's throat, makin' him choke an' squirm against the bar. I can feel the claws in my fist nudgin' against the skin between my knuckles, beggin' to be let out to play. Anger at what these guys wanted to do to Marie is barely keepin' the beast in check, but I'm so close to goin' feral …….. so close to losin' it ……..

My voice is rough as I push my face close to the guy chokin' in my grasp. "Yer time's runnin' out, bub. Talk! Now!"

"Logan …….." Marie is pullin' at my arm, tryin' to get me to let go. I shove her away from me, barely registerin' now that this is the one I'm seekin' to protect. I'm too far gone …….. _Oh Christ, I'm losin' it …….._

An' then Marie's fist slams into the side o' my head an' I reel back, not in pain, but in shock that my mate has raised her hands to me. I release the guy an' drop into a crouch, snarlin' in anger as, barely noticed in the red haze o' my anger, he clutches his neck with shaky hands an' heaves dry, hackin' coughs, suckin' in air.

"Back off, Logan! Ah mean it!" Marie thrusts a finger in my face to hold me in place an' turns to the guy. "Hey, are you okay?"

The sight o' her speakin' to the one who would not have thought twice about hurtin' her makes my blood boil. I lunge forward with a snarl on my lips only to encounter Marie's hand on my chest. I could easily overpower her an' seize my prey, but I won't do that. She's my mate. I won't hurt her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demands, still holdin' me back with that hand on my chest. Her scent, so close to my nose, is comfortin' an' I allow it to wash over me, groundin' me back to reality.

"He's gonna hurt ya, Marie," I growl, warningly.

"Hurt me? He's not gonna hurt me, sugah. This is Mike. He's a mechanic at the shop where we took your bike."

"A …….. a mechanic?" Her words penetrate my revenge-fogged brain and I look at her in confusion. "But …….."

"He's part of the group from Westchester – his brother's gonna be fightin' tonight." Marie is still holdin' me back, but I'm startin' to calm now as her words sink in. "When he recognised me, he came over to let me know your bike will be ready to pick up the day after tomorrow. For goodness sake, he's not gonna hurt me, Logan."

I shake my head as the fog an' the red haze slowly dissipate. "But the guy in the cage said …….."

I make a grab for Marie's bottle as I remember what he said about spikin' her beer. A sniff reveals the presence of no foreign substances – a taste confirms it. "What the hell's goin' on?" I growl.

"Ah could ask you the same question, sugah." Marie has rocked back on one foot, arms folded defiantly. "One minute you're happily knockin' ten bells outta the guy in the cage, the next you're doin' the same out here. Gotta get a grip on reality, sugah."

"The guy in the cage," I snarl, pointin' to the large metal structure, "he wanted me to throw the fight, Marie. Said if I didn't, his friends were gonna take ya outside an' basically fuck ya ta death."

"And you thought that I …….. that _I_ was …….." Mike stares at me in wide-eyed horror, his face visibly palin'. "Oh _shit …….."_

"It was an empty threat, Logan, nothing more." Marie rubs my arm to soothe me, her voice low an' steady. My chest is heavin' from my exertions an' I am barely containin' the anger that makes me wanna lash out an' kill somethin'. I don't care who or what, jus' ……. somethin'. "Logan, are you listening to me? The guy in the cage probably saw Mike come over to talk to me an' thought he'd raise some mischief. It happens all the time."

"Not to me, it don't." Marie's theory is plausible, but somethin' ain't right – somethin' I can't quite put my finger on.

"Well, the guy definitely paid for his mistake." Mike is startin' to relax, but I notice he's placed a stool between us both. "Did you see his face when they dragged him outta the cage?"

"Can't say as I did, but it serves the bugger right." I slip an arm around Marie's waist, pullin' her close an' buryin' my nose in her hair, lettin' her scent calm me. "He won't be tryin' that trick again in a long time."

Sheryl suddenly appears at my side, her face showin' signs o' concern. "What the heck are you doing out here, honey? You're being called. You have to go back in the cage."

As if her words were the catalyst, I realise I can hear the crowds callin' for me, stampin' their feet on the floor an' cheerin'. Some of 'em, probably those that have taken bets on me winnin', are wavin' slips o' paper an' eyein' me pleadingly. The referee is standin' at the cage door, beckonin' me back inside, where my next challenger is already waitin'.

I shake my head against Marie's sweet smellin' hair. "I ain't goin' in," I announce, decisively. "I'm throwin' the fight."

Marie shoves me back so suddenly that I stumble an' almost fall over Mike's stool. By the time I regain my balance, she is glarin' at me with a face like thunder, her hands on her hips.

"You just get back into that cage, mister, an' ah won't take it personally that ya just insulted my honour." She flings out an arm in the direction o' the cage, index finger sharply pointed. "Git! Now!"

Tryin' to ignore the sound o' Sheryl's muffled laughter, I raise my hands, pleadingly. "Marie, I ain't leavin' ya alone. What if it wasn't a ruse ……..?"

If at all possible, my girl's face turns even darker. "What, ya think ah can't take care o' myself now? Ya think ah'm not without my defences?" She's referrin' to her skin, but bein' carefull not to say anythin' in front o' Mike an' Sheryl. "You're not gonna throw the fight just because some guy threatened to rape me, Logan, an' that's final! Get back in the cage before ah throw ya over my shoulder an' carry ya there myself!"

"I'd like ta see ya try," I snap back, unable to stop the low growl from rumbling around my chest. I'm irked that she's arguin' with me, but I'm actually startin' to smile at the image her words provoke an' I lean forward, lettin' my lips brush her ear, suggestively.

"Y'know, I love it when yer angry," I whisper, breathily, against the delicate flesh, an' makin' her shiver despite her best efforts to push me away. "Yer makin' me horny, girl. I can't wait to get between yer legs tonight."

"Go!" Marie finally plants both hands flat against my chest and succeeds in creatin' some space between us. "Get in that cage, mister, or the only thing you'll be gettin' between tonight is your own empty sheets!"

"You've got exactly three minutes to return to the cage, honey," adds Sheryl, checkin' her watch. "Otherwise I'll have to declare you a non-combatant. Your place will be taken by the next fighter."

I'm left with no other choice. Return to the cage or throw the fight an' suffer Marie's anger. My girl helps make the choice for me.

"Go, Logan. Thanks to your warning, ah'll be on the alert from now on. ah'll be safe, ah promise you." Her voice is soft now, holdin' no trace of her former ire, an' she reaches out to take my hand, placin' it against her cheek in affirmation of her love for me. "Go," she whispers, softly. "Fight for me, Logan."

"Two minutes," interjects Sheryl, sharply.

Marie presses a kiss to my palm an' lets me go.

An' without a backward glance, I return to the cage ………

**oooOOOooo**

I am fightin' well. Although, to be honest, there was never any real danger o' me bein' taken out by any o' my challengers. Most of 'em don't even raise a sweat an' are easily dispatched. I am the King o' the Cage an' havin' the time o' my life.

Since returnin' to the fight, I have taken on a total o' nine challengers – the tenth is just about to go down. I caught him on the side o' the head with a haymaker a couple o' seconds ago an' he don't look too good. Only his own grim determination is keepin' him on his feet. I'm bettin' if I breathe on him he'll hit the deck. Tempted to try.

Mike's brother came into the cage two challengers ago. He was good, I'll give him that, but I ain't givin' out charity here an' he went down to a sharp uppercut. Truth is, I pulled my punch a little, in deference to his brother. Mike has stood by Marie since my case o' mistaken identity a while back. He don't need to – now that Marie is aware o' any possible danger, her skin will take down anybody foolish enough to mess with her – but he don't know that, an' I appreciate the sentiment. Good friends are hard to find these days.

My current challenger – I forget his name now, it was somethin' stupid anyway an' they're all startin' to blur into one – staggers slightly an' I use the opportunity to launch a fist at his gut. It's all she wrote for the guy an' he goes down, wheezin' an' hackin' like an asthmatic. It's obvious he can't – or won't – continue, an' the referee declares me the winner. Again.

I use my ten minutes to take a leak in the little boy's room – I'm sweatin' like a pig, but I'm also knockin' back the beer like it's goin' outta fashion an' it's gotta go somewhere. When I return to Marie, she pushes a bottle into my hand before I've even sat down an' I knock back half of it in one go.

Sheryl consults her clipboard. "Next up is a guy called Golddigga, honey." As I've worked my way through the challengers she's had less an' less to do and now, with only two fighters left to be called, she's taken to spendin' her time with Marie an' Mike. If not for Marie, I would no doubt have left with her tonight an' ended up in her bed – her attraction to me is obvious an' she's a good lookin' woman. But there's only one female I'll be leavin' with tonight an' that's my mate. My womanisin' days are over.

"Is he any good?" Mike leans over to look at the information she has written under his name.

"He's a veteran, if that's what you mean," responds Sheryl, thoughtfully. "I've seen him fight before. He's got a mean right hook, so watch yourself, honey."

I raise an eyebrow at her an' she flaps a hand at me. "I know, I know. Geez! Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were one of those mutants, honey. I've never seen anyone fight like you before an' there's hardly a mark on you."

Both myself an' Marie freeze at her words, but Sheryl an' Mike give no sign o' noticin', havin' returned to their study o' Golddigga. Marie an' me toss each other a silent glance.

The referee demands my return to the cage an' I drain the rest o' my beer, before returnin' to the fight. The concrete floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I wait for my next challenger to enter.

Golddigga looks every inch the veteran Sheryl made him out to be. There's no posturin' or posin' for the crowd as he takes his place in front o' me. Just cool appraisal in his eyes as he checks me out.

When the bell rings, he's on me like a ferret on a rabbit, an' I am actually taken by surprise as his thick arm wraps around my neck an' begins to tighten. With one arm trapped behind my back, I flail helplessly with the other as his chokehold cuts off my air an' my vision goes blurry. Wrappin' my fingers around his wrist, I struggle to loosen the grip. There's a roarin' in my ears that has nothin' to do with the crowd, an' the world holds its breath as they realise their champion is goin' down ……..

No, he aint. I ain't given up yet. Slammin' my head back into Golddigga's face, I hear a satisfyin' crack as his nose breaks an' I twist outta his grasp, quickly puttin' space between us. Blood is pourin' from his nose an' down his chest an' he pulls his lips back an' snarls at me. Risin' to the challenge, I snarl back.

He comes at me with fists flyin'. I dodge the first punch, the second, slip under the third to land a rabbit punch to the gut, only to reel back as his fist connects sharply with the side o' my head. _Christ, he's strong! _Shakin' my head to clear it, I circle him slowly, watchin' for an openin'. He circles with me, clenchin' an' unclenchin' his fists, as though achin' to get them around my neck.

There's no subtlety to his attack when it comes – he's like a rogue elephant in full charge. Kinda reminds me o' me. I stand my ground, judgin' the moment, intendin' to sidestep at the last second an' take him from behind. But as I swing to the side, my foot lands on a patch o' blood an' I slip, thowin' out a hand to steady myself. Takin' full advantage o' my faux pas, Golddigga grabs my arm, swings me around an' rams me full tilt into the cage bars.

I howl in agony as my shoulder dislocates.

Okay, today's lesson, kiddies, is Adamantium 101, an' ya better pay attention 'cause I'm in a lotta pain here an' I'm only gonna say this once. Jus' 'cause I have an adamantium skeleton, it don't mean I'm impervious to pain, 'cause that's a crock o' shit. The joints can still rotate, otherwise I'd not be able to move. An' that means they can be dislocated.

An' that hurts.

A lot.

I drop to my knees, grippin' my injured shoulder as Golddigga looms above me. Too late, I see the fist comin' for the side o' my head an' it connects hard, sendin' me sprawlin' across the floor. The follow up kick to my ribs lays me out flat an' when he ducks down to dig the heel of his hand into my shoulder blade I almost pass out from the pain in my arm.

He has me writhin' on the floor for a few seconds an' then backs away instead o' finishin' me off, no doubt to draw out the agony. He dances around, showin' off for the crowd, unintentionally givin' me time to regain my breath. _His mistake. _When he moves in on me again, I know this is my last chance to take him down before he punches my card. It's all or nothin' now.

The kick he aims at my shoulder would have taken me out, no question. But I have no intention o' lettin' it land. At the last second, I twist an' grab his leg with my good hand, flippin' him around an' bringin' him crashin' to the floor beside me. Before he can recover, I wrap my legs around his throat an' begin to apply pressure, tearin' a cry o' agony from my own throat as I accidentally jostle my shoulder in the process. With his head locked between my thighs, he begins to choke as his airway is constricted, scrabblin' futilely at my jeans in an effort to pull me away. But this is a killin' hold an' there's no way out of it.

Leastways, not one that I've ever discovered anyway.

When his body goes limp, I open my legs an' let him roll free, topplin' to the ground beside his unconscious form with a ragged groan.

Just for a moment, everythin' goes black ……..

"Logan? Sugah, can ya hear me ……..?" I open my eyes to a blur o' bright light an' an indistinct face hoverin' above me. Scent tells me it's Marie. "Oh god, Logan, are ya okay?"

"Hurt …….." It's testament to how much pain I'm really feelin' for me to admit it. I struggle to rise an' she takes my good arm to help. Mike moves in from somewhere behind me an' together they get me to my feet. It's then that I notice Sheryl arguin' with the referee. The crowd have gone quiet, waitin' to see what's gonna happen. It's obvious I won, but my injury complicates things.

Sheryl an' the referee argue back an' forth for a couple o' seconds an' then she comes hurryin' over. "You've got thirty minutes, honey," she declares, somewhat breathlessly. "Fool ref was all for declaring you a non-combatant on account of you not being able to continue, but the rules quite clearly state that a fighter has thirty minutes injury time should an accident occur. If you're not fit to fight after that time elapses, then the next fighter takes over the cage. As there's only one challenger left, he will win the title."

"But he hasn't fought at all," Marie objects. "That isn't fair!"

Sheryl shrugs. "Those are the rules, honey. I've been organising these illegal bouts for years – I should know."

There's clearly more to our fight co-ordinator than meets the eye.

"Come on, sugah, let's get you fixed up." Marie starts to lead me from the cage.

"Take me outside," I manage to force out around the pain.

"Sugah?"

"Outside, Marie. To the jeep."

I try to keep my weight off her as we weave through the crowd towards the door, but the pain is all-consumin' an' I'm startin' to feel dizzy. Sheryl catches up with us as the guy at the door opens up to let us out, after tellin' Mike to stay put an' not let the ref declare me null an' void while I'm away.

The cool night air revives me somewhat as we move across the parkin' lot an' I'm actually feelin' more in control o' my faculties by the time we reach the jeep. My left arm is hangin' uselessly at my side though, an' my shoulder is skewed at an odd angle. Gentle probin' with my fingers confirms the dislocation.

"What are you gonna do, honey?" Sheryl watches me with concern in her eyes. Marie has gone slightly pale. I think she knows what's gonna happen, but can't quite bring herself to believe it.

"Gonna pop it back in," I growl back. I'd prefer to do this without Sheryl's involvement, but she's here an' I can't wait for her to go. Gotta do it now, before I run outta time to heal up afterwards.

"Pop it back in …….?" Sheryl's eyes open wide an' she takes a step back. "You're crazy!"

"Yeah," I retort. "But not crazy enough."

"What do you want me to do, sugah?" Marie swallows hard an' steps nearer, obviously wishin' I didn't have to do this. _So do I, darlin'. So do I._

"Hold me steady on my good side," I tell her. "Don't let me pass out."

"Okay …….."

She moistens her lips an' moves nervously into place. To her credit, Sheryl steps up beside her, although her face is pale an' she looks ready to hurl at any moment. I give both of 'em a steady glance, then turn an' slam my shoulder into the jeep's roll bar.

"_**Rrrruuuaaagh!!"**_

The howl that is torn from my throat resembles that of a tortured animal an' seems to reverberate around the parkin' lot. As my knees begin to buckle, I feel Marie an' Sheryl step into my good side an' together they turn me around an' ease me down to the ground, where I lean my head back against the side o' the jeep.

"_Jesus Christ!"_ I spit out, just for a second lettin' my anger get the better o' me. "That fuckin' _hurt!"_

"Is it back in?" Marie is lookin' a little green around the gills, but barin' up well, all things considered.

I roll my shoulder experimentally, hearin' a strange gulpin' noise from Sheryl. "Yep. Right as rain."

"You're as mad as a box of frogs, did you know that?" Sheryl pokes an accusin' finger in my chest, earnin' herself a growl. "I've never …….. and you …….. I …….." She gives up an' regards me keenly, eyes narrowed. "You're not human, are you?"

I study her face for a second or two, while Marie looks on, her mouth formed into a perfect little 'O' of surprise. I finally figure I owe Sheryl the truth, whether it gets us kicked out o' the tournament or not.

"I'm a mutant," I tell her, honestly. "A feral."

"A feral." She repeats the unfamiliar phrase back to me, noticeably avoidin' the 'M' word. "And what the hell's a feral?"

"I have enhanced senses an' athletic ability. I also have a healin' factor. Means I can recover from just about any injury."

"Is that so?"

She rocks back onto her haunches an' folds her arms, her brow creasin' as she looks me up an' down. Beside me, I hear Marie draw in a breath an' hold it, waitin' for the bombshell to drop. I mentally begin to add up the amount o' time I'll need to get inside the warehouse an' grab my car keys before Sheryl calls security on us. If all's gonna go belly up, we'll need to make a getaway, pretty damn quick.

"You heal, huh?" She snorts an' her face breaks into a huge smile. "In that case, you'd better get back into the cage an' take on your final challenger, honey. It wouldn't be right to deprive the punters of their chance to crown their rightful Cage King, now, would it?"

Marie squeals an' lunges over to hug her.

"I'm just a sucker for a guy with a nice ass." Sheryl grins ruefully as she stands up an' dusts off her shorts. "Now, much as I'd like to sit out here an' chat with you nice people, there's at least fifteen hundred dollars in the fight pot waiting to be won, an' I'm guessing it's got the name 'Wolverine' written all over it. Do you agree?"

"Damn right." I get to my feet an' Marie high fives me excitedly.

"How long have I got?" I ask, glancin' at Sheryl

She checks her watch. "Ten minutes."

"Good," I growl back. "Just enough time fer a beer ……."

**NEXT: **Cage fight final!! And on the way home – Logan + Marie + jeep = smut!! Need I say more!


	14. Heaven on Four Wheels

Hey everyone! I know some of you have been waiting for this chapter for some time, so I hope it lives up to expectations! Please be aware that there is a **Serious Smut Alert** on this chapter, so if easily offended, please do not read! It's not an M rated story for nothing!!

Once again, my little band of reviewers has been busy with the button at the bottom of the page, for which I am eternally grateful! Many thanks to **moviemom44, Ren-stranger, Wolf Eos, xmngrl, Laudine, MidLifeCrisis, Mrstrentreznor, lovingmama23, desy, alexmonalisa, pepper-maroon, Sniktchick, notashamedtobesoilyfan** and **pinkdrama!**

And now - on with the adventure .... ahem, or should that be smut?! (I'm so sorry - the evil plot bunnies make me do it!!)

**ooXoo**

**14. Heaven on Four Wheels**

I sometimes wonder how I manage to get myself into these situations, y'know. All I wanted was a chance to grab a few beers, let off some steam an' maybe get laid as a way to end off a perfect night's entertainment. Instead, my girl has been threatened with rape, I've had my arm dislocated, an' I'm currently gettin' up close an' personal with the bars o' the cage while my latest challenger acquaints his fist with my kidneys.

The guy's name is Hammer, an' he's built like the Hulk, only twice as mean. About four seconds ago he managed to get his meaty fist around my neck an' slam my face into the bars with a clang that I'm sure was heard clear across the warehouse. From here, I can see Marie, standin' by the bar, pumpin' the air with her fist, willin' me to break free an' give the guy some payback.

But I can't move – he's got me pinned – an' when his fist crashes into the small o' my back I groan in pain. My knees buckle an' Hammer lets me go, leavin' me to slide down the bars into a heap on the concrete floor. _Jus' leave me here fer a moment, willya? Don't ferget ta wake me on yer way out._

Hammer roars at the crowd, then reaches down to tuck a hand in the waistband o' my jeans, haulin' me to my feet. I flail in his grip for a moment, before he deposits me on my feet an' plants an uppercut on my chin that sends me staggerin' clear to the other side o' the cage. I land heavily on my ass an' sit there for a moment, lettin' the cage stop spinnin' while Hammer struts around an' preens for the crowd.

He's gotta be a mutant. Nobody else could dish out such punishment an' haul me about like a rag-doll the way he does. That uppercut he just gave me shoulda broken every one of his fingers an' left him howlin' in pain, yet he shrugged it off as though it were nothin' more than a love-tap.

O' course, it's not impossible for him to be a mutant. _I'm_ competin' after all, an' where there's one there's bound to be others. Thing is though, _I'm_ careful never to expose myself as such when I fight. I try not to get myself injured so that people don't see me heal. I don't fight to my full potential – usin' all the techniques I've learned over the years would be a sure-fire way to be labelled as a 'mutie'. I try not to go feral, an' I _never_ unsheathe the claws. Guy gotta be careful. A room full o' truckers lookin' to see a good fight or two an' maybe get drunk a little can suddenly become a lynch mob when they think they've spotted a 'mutie' in their midst. So I've learned to fight real careful over the years.

This guy though – Hammer – he acts like he don't care. An' that makes him dangerous. 'Cause if he goes down, the other two mutants in the room – namely me an' Marie – don't wanna be goin' down with him.

Which means I gotta take him out real quick like.

Gettin' his attention ain't gonna be a problem, 'cause he's already tired o' showin' off for the crowd an' is comin' for me again. I think he's ready to finish me off this time – I can see the bloodlust in his eyes.

Let's see if I can use that to my advantage.

I get to my feet as he rushes me an' barrel forwards, catchin' him in the gut with my head an' wrappin' my arms around the bulk of his waist. He grunts as we collide an' I use my momentum to push him back the way he's just come, the breath whooshin' outta him as he crashes heavily into the very bars he's just had me pinned against. On the pretext o' standin' up straight, I 'accidentally' manage to catch him under the chin with the top o' my head. His jaw snaps shut with a resoundin' click, an' the impact actually makes me see stars for a moment, so _he _must be in a whole world full o' hurt right about now. While he's busy countin' the birdies flyin' around his head, I jab him in the stomach hard enough to make him double over, then bring both hands down in a firm chop to each side of his neck. He drops like a stone an' doesn't move again.

_Well, whaddaya know? Guess the fella had a glass jaw …….._

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause as the referee lifts my arm to acknowledge the rightful King o' the Cage an' suddenly there are people all around me, slappin' me on the back an' shoutin' an' hollerin' an' all but steppin' on the poor guy on the floor in their bid to congratulate me. A growl rushes to my throat as I feel myself bein' mobbed an' I know I gotta get outta the crush before I do somethin' I'll regret later. I push away from the referee, who tries to pull me back to say a few words to the crowd, but I ain't havin' none of it an' I shoulder my way to the cage door, where I suddenly find myself face to face with Marie an' there is such love an' pride in her eyes that it near takes my breath away. An' then she is flingin' her arms around my neck, an' I willingly allow her to take my lips with hers as I lock my hands around her waist an' pull her flush against my body, leanin' into her possessively, denyin' anyone to take her from me.

I am the King o' the Cage. This is _my _territory …….. _my _mate …….. an' if ya don't believe me just ask the girl with the lips attached to mine ……..

**oooOOOooo**

"Ah think we should be gettin' home, sugah." Marie hiccups softly as she blinks at me an' I reach out to caress those platinum streaks I love so much. "Ah've had enough. Ah wanna go to bed."

"Any room in that bed fer me?" I ask, in a low voice intended for Marie's ears alone, totally ignorin' Sheryl, who is leanin' on the bar with her head in her hands. Since winnin' the tournament we've been celebratin' as a group most o' the night. Mike left sometime around two, with his pals in tow an' a promise to do his best to get my bike ready for tomorrow. Most o' the other revellers have already drifted away, leavin' just me, Marie an' Sheryl, an' a few drunken stragglers who don't seem to have homes to go to. The barman is wipin' glasses, but keepin' a close eye on me – I've managed to run up quite a substantial bill an' I guess he doesn't want me to blow the joint before I've settled up.

Marie takes my hand in hers an' presses a kiss to my palm, her eyes hot with promise. "If ya get me home before ah pass out, sugah, ya might still be in for a wild night."

I immediately turn to signal the barman. "Bill. We're leavin'."

Sheryl looks up as I pull a handful o' fifties outta my winnin's an' slap 'em on the bar. "What, going so soon? It's only …….." She peers at her watch, but judgin' by the way she keeps movin' it back an' forth I'm guessin' she can't see it too clearly. "Oh well, whatever ……" She slips off her stool an' moves around to Marie, enfoldin' my surprised girl in a companionable hug. "See you around, honey. You take good care of him, y'hear?"

Marie nods, blushin' prettily. "I will," she promises.

"And you ……" Sheryl releases Marie and turns to me. "If you're ever in the neighbourhood, come fight for us again, y'hear? That was some show you put on for us tonight."

I nod an' she pulls me into a close hug which I return as casually as I can without raisin' Marie's hackles. As she pulls back, I feel her hand glide into my pocket an' I realise she's probably just slipped me her telephone number. Gutsy lady.

Marie links her arm through mine as we leave the warehouse. The cool night air seems to revive her somewhat an' she grins at me as we take to the jeep. "Sheryl slipped ya her phone number, didn't she?" It's a simple question, asked without trace o' malice or jealousy.

I shake my head as I put the keys in the ignition, startin' up the engine with a throaty roar. "I dunno," I answer, honestly.

"Are ya gonna look?"

"No need to, Marie. I have a mate. Don't need another one."

The answer seems to satisfy her an' she falls silent as we drive through Beauford an' head for the main Westchester route. She settles in for the long drive home as we reach the open road an' pick up speed.

For a while we drive in silence, content with each other's company. Marie is hummin' softly to herself, eyes closed, a gentle smile playin' across her lips an' one elegant finger tappin' the imaginary beat on her thigh. I'm nursin' a nice buzz from all the beer I've consumed tonight. Not enough to impair my concentration – I can't get drunk after all – but enough to give me an enjoyable high as we drive.

Marie eventually turns to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Ah've been wonderin', sugah? Have ya ever made love in a jeep?"

The innocently phrased question sends a jolt o' heat straight to my groin. "Can't say as I have, darlin'." It's an effort to keep my voice from betrayin' the hope in my voice as I reply. "Plenty o' cars, as I recall. A truck once or twice. On the back of a bike once." I wink at her as I say this an' she surprises me with a blush. "But never a jeep. Why?"

Marie wriggles around in her seat until she's leanin' against my shoulder, her mouth close to my ear. "Care to try?" she whispers seductively, lettin' her right hand rest lightly on my belt buckle.

"While we're movin', or would ya prefer me ta stop?" I can't help lookin' down as one finger traces the path o' my zipper downwards.

"Whatever ya think'll be the easiest, sugah."

I groan as her hand slides lower an' gently squeezes, forcin' all thoughts o' safe drivin' from my mind. She begins to rub me in slow, lazy circles an' my eyes drift closed in blissful ecstasy as the erotic friction steals away the last o' my self control an' prompts a tell-tale bulge to begin growin' in my jeans. Marie giggles delightedly at the power she has over my traitorous body an', not for the first time, I wonder where the shy an' demure girl I first picked up in my camper in Laughlin City has gone to. _That _Marie was quiet an' innocent an' would never have massaged a guy's balls while doin' seventy-five in an open top jeep. _This _Marie ……… well, let's just say that I like this one better.

"Road, sugah."

Marie's voice right by my ear forces my eyes open an' I jerk the steerin' wheel around just in time to avoid runnin' us both off the road. _Jesus!_ Marie laughs excitedly, her alcohol fogged brain obviously turned on by our brush with death an' I turn to give her a glare.

"The hell ya tryin' ta do, darlin'? Get us both killed? Or worse?"

"What a way to go though, sugah," she practically purrs in return, an' before I can stop her, she pulls down my zipper an' pushes her hand deep inside my jeans.

"_Christ, Marie ……!"_ Her hand is cold an' only my death grip on the steerin' wheel keeps me anchored to my seat. My survival instincts are tellin' me to remove her hand before I acquaint the jeep thoroughly an' fatally with a tree, but my ecstasy sodden brain is givin' my common sense a sound thrashin' as it yells at me to leave her be. The beast within me is backin' up that notion an' is keepin' the voice o' reason distracted while don't-give-a-fuck sneaks up on him unnoticed from behind.

"Find somewhere, fast, or ah swear ah'll pull ya out right now an' give ya a blow-job ya'll never forget, sugah." Marie growls warningly into my ear.

I take the next exit at somethin' close to ninety-five.

Much as I'd appreciate gettin' the blow-job o' my life, I'd rather not be drivin' a jeep when I get it. It'd be dangerous an' downright irresponsible, to say the least. An' I'd rather not have to explain to the cops how I managed to total my jeep on a completely deserted stretch o' road with no other vehicles for miles around.

Marie's hand is gettin' insistant an' I almost groan out loud with relief when I see a sign for one o' those driver's rest stops set among the trees. By day, they are usually full o' weary travellers an' rowdy kids, but experience knows that they are often deserted at night, frequented only by long distance truck drivers gettin' some shut-eye between pick-ups. I pray that this one is similarly empty as I take the turn off an' drive in.

Two trucks are outlined by my headlights as I reach the parkin' area, but they are situated near the exit ready to make a quick getaway in the mornin' an' I drive clear across the lot, bumpin' up the curb an' weavin' between the picnic tables dotted around the grass before choosin' a spot at random under a heavily branched tree an' bringin' the jeep to a rockin' halt. Before I've even switched off the engine, Marie reaches over to pop my fly button, releasin' my engorged shaft into her eager hands. With a tiny moan of longin', she ducks down an' takes me into her mouth.

"Oh god,_ yes ……" _The sensation of her soft warmth around my heated length is heaven an' I allow my head to fall back against the seat as I tangle one hand into her hair to prevent her from pullin' back too far. With the other, I grip the roll bar above my head, usin' it for leverage as I rock my hips in time to her movements. "Oh, baby, that feels so good ……"

She really is spectacularly talented at this …….. god knows where she learned it from, but she knows all the right tricks to get me groanin' an' writhin' for her. As before, she goes for her patented three-pronged attack – one hand an' mouth on my cock, the other hand squeezin' my balls – but this time she's tryin' somethin' new, alternatin' between soft an' gentle, an' rough an' hard. The gentle lick, hard squeeze, sudden bite, soothin' stroke combination is drivin' me steadily insane with pleasure an' the sound o' my own ragged breathin' is loud in my ears. I can feel a growin' heat at the base o' my cock an' I know it ain't gonna be long before I fill my lover's mouth with my load.

"Marie …….. _god, _Marie, I can _feel _it …….. it's startin' …….. I'm gonna _come,_ baby ……." My voice is shakin' as I plead with her to finish me off an' I groan helplessly, completely an' utterly at her mercy.

"Come for me, sugah," Marie whispers against the top o' my shaft. "Ah wanna taste you." An' then she flicks that talented tongue o' hers into the slit in the crown, questin' for my precious elixir, an' I explode spectacularly an' thoroughly into her mouth.

"_Jesus ……!"_ My ass leaves the seat as I thrust into her mouth, givin' her everythin' I've got an' then some. The last time we did this I lost control an' turned feral an' I can't remember a thing o' what happened afterwards. Believe me, I have no intention o' lettin' that happen again. I wanna remember every last second o' tonight.'

Marie sits back as I drop heavily into my seat, my chest heavin' with the force o' my ejaculation. "Sweet Jesus, Marie, that was somethin' else …….." My eyes are still closed an' I feel her breath on my lips right before she speaks.

"You taste good, sugah. Wanna share?"

An' then she kisses me, an' I can taste myself on her tongue as she pushes it between my teeth, claimin' my body for her own. I wrap my arms around her an' pull her against my chest as she moans into my mouth.

"Ah need you, Logan …….. ah need to feel you inside me …….."

_Damn right! _I fumble with the lever at the side o' my seat, slidin' it back as far as it'll go to make room between myself an' the steerin' wheel. Marie scrambles back into her own seat an' begins to tug at a boot while I lift my ass an' push my jeans down to my knees. I am still semi-erect, but I wanna be ready for Marie as soon as she wants me and so I take myself in hand an' stroke up an' down my length a couple o' times, groanin' as I imagine Marie's soft hands on me. I immediately begin to grow hard an' when I glance to the side I discover that Marie has stripped to her panties an' is watchin' me with hungry eyes.

"It's turnin' me on somethin' fierce watchin ya do that, sugah, but ah really think that's _my_ job, don't you?"

I nod, speechless, an' she slips over to straddle my legs, holdin' my cock between her hands so that it keeps brushin' against her soft belly. Growlin', I push her crop top up, discoverin' to my delight that she neglected to wear a bra this evenin'. Her soft, pert breasts are perfectly displayed before me an' I cover them with my hands, earnin' myself a sharp gasp of pleasure as I pinch the nipples an' roll 'em between my fingers.

We spend some time fondlin' each other - bein' soft an' playful - doin' just enough to keep each other on the boil, but not enough to make us come. We are both breathin' hard by the time Marie raises herself up slightly, her head thrown back as I suck on one nipple an' finger the other. I understand immediately that she is ready an' I take hold of her panties at the hips an' rip 'em away with a sharp tug, tossin' 'em over the side o' the jeep. She positions herself to take me in, an' her eyelids flutter in obvious pleasure as she impales herself on my rigid shaft an' begins to work me deeper.

"Ooooh, _Logan ……." _A breathy sigh escapes her lips as she slides slowly down my length an' I rest my hands on her hips to steady her, resistin' the impulse to buck, lettin' her set the pace. She moans softly, her back archin' as she reaches her limit. "God, so hard …….. ah can feel every inch of you, sugah …….. so good …….."

Placin' her hands on my shoulders, she begins to ride me, movin' slow an' steady, an' I growl at the heady rush o' sensations pulsin' through my veins, sendin' a prayer o' thanks to the X-Gene that makes it possible for us to have sex like this an' not have to wear a condom. 'Course, I'd never go bareback with an X-Gene negative human – not unless I wanted to father lots o' little ferals anyway. Y'see, the X-Gene – as well as givin' us all these neat powers – actually acts as a natural contraceptive. Childbirth between two mutants is extremely rare, maybe one in ten thousand, according to Henry, perhaps more. The chances o' childbirth increases greatly between a mutant and a 'normal' human and will often result in X-Gene positive off-spring, especially if the mutant is the male, seein' as the male carries the positive gene. So, although the X-Gene is responsible for much heartache an' hatred between humans an' mutant-kind, it actually makes it possible for me to experience the full essence o' Marie the way nature intended as she slowly an' surely pleasures herself towards her inevitable climax.

She's in another world entirely, her spine arched an' her head tilted so far back that her hair is brushin' my knees. I relinquish my hold on her hips an' move my hands to her breasts, gently rubbin' the erect nipples with my thumbs an' she tilts forward, moanin' softly, her face flushed pink with the glow o' good sex. Puttin' her hands over mine to keep 'em in place, she rocks forward, nuzzlin' into my neck, an' I lift my chin, allowin' my mate to lick an' nip my neck. The combined pleasure of her movement up an' down my length coupled with her mouth on the sensitive flesh o' my neck acts as a sensory overload an' I groan helplessly with carnal lust, needin' – wantin' – more.

" ……..Faster, Marie …….." I manage to croak out between panted breaths. "Ride me harder …….. I wanna come inside you ……."

She moans deliriously at my words, drawin' back from my neck so that she can lean back an' brace her hands on my knees. I mourn the contact, but this new position means she can get deeper an' faster penetration an' I can't help buckin' up to meet her on the next downward stroke, all but crazed with the need to get as deep inside my mate as physically possible. The resultin' nudge she gets o' me inside causes her grip to tighten on my knees an' she tosses her head back in the throes of ecstasy.

"Oh god, _yes, _Logan ……. do it again ……. ! God, _yes ……! Yes …..!"_

She is like a creature possessed as she responds without question to her body's needs, lettin' herself go with an abandon that is as frightenin' as it is beautiful. I know she is close to her climax – I can feel her walls beginnin' to tighten around me – an' when I reach down to rub her just in the right spot, she arches back with a startled cry, shakin' like a leaf as she comes around me, an' screamin' my name into the approachin' dawn.

As the tremors of her orgasm ease away, she collapses against me, whimperin' softly an' shakin' every now an' then as a spasm hits. Still deep inside her, an' enjoyin' the feelin' o' possession this invokes in me, I brush her hair away from her face, pressin' a kiss to her forehead as she looks up at me with hooded eyes.

"You didn't come," she observes, seriously.

I shake my head. "Wasn't time." I allow a wolfish smile to cross my lips. "Jus' means we get ta go again."

"Oh god, no, Logan! Ah can't! Not so soon. That last one took too much outta me."

I snort an' twist around, pullin' outta her an' lettin' her slide to the seat in my place. "Yer not gettin' outta this so easily, Marie," I growl against her neck. "I wanna come inside ya, an' what the Wolverine wants, the Wolverine gets."

She actually shivers at my words an' on sight alone I'd swear she was afraid o' me. But my enhanced senses don't lie, an' they're pickin' up nothin' but lust an' need. No matter what she says, or how she acts, she wants me, pure an' simple.

_God, she's beautiful_. Lookin' at her sittin' there, almost naked, with her crop top bunched above her breasts like that, her silky hair fallin' around her shoulders, my breath is taken away by the mere sight o' her. She's perfect. An' she's mine. I don't deserve her. Honestly, she's too good for me but, for some reason she's chosen to stand by my side as my mate an' my feral nature has confirmed her selection. I won't ever profess to understand why, but I simply accept this as the miracle it is. To do any less would be to deny our love for each other.

I suddenly realise she is watchin' me with a mixture o' puzzlement an' concern in her fathomless green eyes. She reaches up to stroke my cheek. "Y'okay, sugah?"

"Marie, I …….." I suddenly find myself lost for words, an' I lower myself down to capture her lips with mine, showin' her with actions what I can't put into words. Already standin' in the footwell, I place my hands on the back o' the seat for balance, loomin' large over her as I nudge her legs apart with my knees an' position myself between them. She whimpers a little in the back of her throat as she feels my semi-hard cock nudge against her delicate folds an' I rub myself into her slick wetness, feelin' myself harden with the thought of enterin' her. Shakin' with desire, I trail a line o' heated kisses along her jawline to her ear.

"God, I want you so much, Marie …….." She shivers as my hot breath tickles the sensitive skin an' I moan in reply, losin' myself in the feel of her beneath me. "You make me so hot for you …….. so crazy …….."

I shift my hips forward, allowin' the head o' my cock to slip inside her. She moans an' wraps her long legs around my hips, which has the added bonus o' makin' me slide deeper. _Oh yes …….._ I stifle a growl o' pleasure.

"Gonna make this feel so good, Marie …….. make ya scream my name ……." Another shift, another couple o' inches into her sweetness, an' I'm feelin' dizzy with the sense o' her surroundin' me – acceptin' me. I nuzzle into her neck, nippin' playfully at her heated flesh. "So hard for you, Marie …….. gonna fill ya with my seed …….. make strong, healthy cubs ……."

_Eh? Where the hell did that come from? _I cover my confusion by pushin' forward once more, takin' her fully with one final stroke an' buryin' myself to the hilt in her sweet warmth. I give her a moment to adjust to the feel o' me, brace one knee on the seat next to her leg for leverage, an' then begin to move ……..

_Sweet Jesus, I've died an' gone to heaven ……..! _This can't be real, 'cause nothin' thatfeels this good could ever be earthly ……..Time slows …….. all thought an' feelin' disappears save for that of our bodies movin' together in perfect union. Even the jeep ceases to exist. There's just me, Marie an' the sound o' laboured breathin' loud in our ears ……..

_Kill me now, 'cause nothin' will ever be better than this …….._

Somewhere in the back o' my mind, I'm aware that somethin' has changed. What started as a yearnin' for sex has grown …….. evolved ……… into somethin' deeper that holds far more meanin'. An' suddenly I know. What we've had before – what we've experienced – it was only ever about sex. The desire of two bodies comin' together for mutual need. This …….. this is somethin' else ………

This isn't sex …….. this is makin' love ……..

An' with that realisation comes the desire for release, beginnin' as a burnin' at the base o' my cock, a tightenin' o' my balls an' the clenchin' o' muscles that makes me wanna thrust – hard – an' when I come it's with a taut spine, head thrown back an' the sound o' Marie's name tearin' from my throat.

I'm a long time comin' down from the high place, an' when I do it's to the feel o' Marie's hands strokin' my rigid arms an' the sound o' my name on her lips. Droppin' a kiss to her forehead to reassure her, I slip outta her an' change places, gatherin' her onto my lap an' restin' her head against my chest an' allowin' a soft growl to rumble in my throat – soothin' an' calmin' us both.

I feel her stir against me an' look down into those beautiful green eyes. "You're doin' it again, sugah. You're purring …….."

An' only then do I realise she's right ……..

**NEXT: **The morning after!!


	15. Crash and Burn

Hey everyone! Welcome to a new chapter! This one marks the start of the promised darkness for Wolverine and Rogue! The ride gets really bumpy from here on in!

Once again, thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! - **moviemom44, jnetrich, Dumesweeney, xmngrl, pepper-maroon, Mrstrentreznor, alexmonalisa, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Sniktchick, lovingmama23, MidLifeCrisis, Laudine **and** pinkdrama!**

And now, onwards! Dark things await those who drive black trucks!

**ooXoo**

**15. Crash and Burn**

I could get used to this – wakin' up with my girl curled against me, our legs entwined, our hearts beatin' as one. I could get used to the feelin' o' bein' wanted – needed – by someone. Used to the heady sense of …….. of belonging.

I can hardly remember how we got back to the mansion last night – the details of that mundane drive through the fast approachin' dawn aren't important anyway, an' they're overshadowed by the powerful memories of our love-makin' in the jeep – memories so vivid they cause a stir of remembered interest in my groin. I remember kissin' an' cuddlin' with Marie on my lap until the first tinge o' pink in the sky warned of the coming dawn an' remindin' us we had to get home before we were missed. The driver o' one of the trucks parked near the exit leaned out of his window as we approached, thankin' us for one helluva show, his eyes still glassy after jerkin' off to our performance. He wanted to know if we'd be back the followin' evenin'.

I gave him a wolfish smile an' said we'd consider it.

God knows how we managed to get upstairs to my room. With Marie walkin' backwards in my arms as she smothered my face with hot, demandin' kisses, it's a miracle we didn't fall over somethin' an' break our fool necks. I vaguely remember Scott yellin' somethin' as we bumped against his bedroom door in our sex-fuelled fumblings, but Marie had her tongue in my ear at that point an' my senses were goin' crazy. I could hardly recall my own name, let alone make a coherent reply.

I remember Marie whisperin' my name as we made love once more to the first chorus of birdsong outside my window, only to fall asleep in a tangle of arms an' legs, our love-lust finally sated.

For now …….

I feel Marie stir against me an' I tighten my grip around her waist, hearin' her whisper my name softly in response. Even in sleep she's aware of me – she knows I'm here – an' I can't help nuzzlin' into her neck, breathin' in the sweet scent of her an' knowin' she's mine. She belongs to me – body an' soul – an' the beast within howls its approval.

We have a fine mate, the Wolverine an' I. An' one day she'll bear us many fine cubs.

_What the ……..? _There I go again. What the hell is wrong with me lately? Anyone would think I wanted to be a father, or somethin'.

_An' why the hell not, bub? _The beast stirs an' flexes its claws, makin' its feelings known in no uncertain terms. It writhes within me, uncoiling like a snake, testing the boundaries of its prison. I've never known it to be so single-minded in its intent, completely convincin' me of its willingness to take me over an' push my human psyche to the background in order to get what it wants.

An' what it wants is Marie. It wants our mate.

I won't let it happen. I won't let the beast have her. She's mine. The beast can howl all it wants – it can throw itself against the bars of its prison until it's bruised an' bloody – but I will not relinquish control. When I make love to Marie, it's me that's movin' inside her. Me she's caressin' so tenderly an' invitin' to kiss her mouth.

Me.

The man.

Not the beast.

The man can be soft …….. can be gentle an' lovin'. The beast would take her hard …… make her bleed …….. break her. I can't let that happen. The man must remain in control. Always.

But that doesn't mean I can't torment the beast a little. Make it watch while I do all the things it would like to do itself.

An' it howls now in desperation because it knows what I'm gonna do …….

Marie sighs in her sleep an' I let my hand rove upwards, skimmin' her silky skin until I reach the lower swell of her breast. My thumb caresses the gentle curve an' she arches into my touch like a sunlight deprived flower, mewlin' a little as I begin to move my fingers in tiny circles, makin' their way slowly towards that little nub o' flesh that just aches for my attention. Dreamily, she pushes back into my chest, unconsciously opening herself up to my rovin' hand, an' I scoot over slightly, lettin' her roll onto her back as I take her breast fully in the palm o' my hand an' squeeze gently.

She moans softly, her little pink tongue dartin' out to moisten her lips, yet she is still asleep, her eyes tightly closed but flickerin' slightly as her body responds automatically to my caresses. She is so in tune with me now that she reacts to the slightest o' touches an' I wonder if she is dreamin' right now. Does she dream of me? Can she see herself as I see her – a vision of heavenly beauty on snowy white sheets, writhin' sensuously under her dream lover's hands? Does she reach for him an' beg him to take her, to fill her completely an' utterly with his love – to make her his?

_God, what I wouldn't give to be a telepath right now …….._

Lowerin' myself down, I cover her breast with my mouth, teasin' the nipple with my teeth, lathin' it with my tongue until it forms into a tight little peak. Satisfied with my achievements, I let my hand rove downwards now, skimmin' her soft curls, nudgin' her compliant thighs apart to settle between her legs, my heart thumpin' as Marie moans her arousal an' grinds against my hand. A surge o' wetness answers my questin' fingers an' I groan my own need as I feel my cock harden in response.

I can't wait any longer. I move to position myself in the cradle of her thighs, sighin' as I feel her body shape to mine, welcoming me home. The beast howls, egging me on, willin' me to take her before she wakes. But I will not. That is the animal's way. It is not mine.

I touch my lips to hers, kissin' them gently as though for the very first time. Marie stirs beneath me, her eyelids flutterin' as she opens them an' gazes up at me, dreamily, still half asleep. Her hair is strewn across my pillow an' I plunge my fingers deep into those silky tresses, windin' it around one digit an' flickin' it under her nose. She laughs an' screws her eyes shut as she tries to fight the sneeze that is buildin', pushin' my hand away with a squeal, an' I kiss her again – briefly – chastely. An' then her body lifts up to press against mine an' she smiles, registerin' the fact that I am hoverin' above her, poised between her legs, waitin' – hopin' – for the permission to enter her an' take what's rightfully mine.

"Hey, Logan ……." Her voice is soft, silky with sleep, an' I smile down at her, losin' myself in the biggest pair of come-to-bed eyes I have ever seen.

"Hey, darlin', I breathe in return. "This is your early mornin' wake up call."

"Oh, goody." She wriggles against me, nudgin' my cock an' makin' me hiss at the sensation of her slidin' heat. "Ah'd hate to sleep over an' miss all the fun."

_Darlin', that's exactly what I've been waitin' to hear._

I push my hips forward, easin' into her nice an' slow. Marie gasps as I fill her, wrappin' her legs around me an' pullin' me in deep, admittin' me to her inner place with nothin' short of unconditional trust.

Our love makin' is slow an' easy, as I strive to prove my devotion to her in the only way I know how. Once again, I am struck by the difference between this an' our previous couplings. It's as much about pleasurin' the other as it is about fulfillin' our own needs and desires an', for once, my own preference for fast an' rough sex is pushed behind me as I move slowly inside her, wantin' to take her as high as possible before I tip her over the edge. We take our time, kissin' an' nippin' at each others flesh as we move as one, pausin' every now an' then to simply enjoy the sensation o' bein' joined an' to touch each other, Marie's hands rovin' my body, explorin' every inch o' me as we slowly an' inevitably move towards the anticipated climax.

When neither of us can hold back any longer – when our breath is comin' in short, uneven gasps an' our bodies are coated in a fine sheen – I raise myself up an' begin to thrust, beggin' her to join me, to come with me to that high place an' never look back.

We both come at exactly the same time, our bodies shudderin' in unison as our passion ignites, sendin' us spirallin' out of control. Totally spent, I collapse on top of her, keepin' my weight on my elbows as my head spins with the intensity of our synchronised orgasm.

An' as I slowly regain control o' my senses, I nuzzle into her neck an' breathe those three little words that I never thought I would hear myself say.

"I love you, Marie. God, I love you so much ……."

Marie fists her little hands into my hair, pullin' my lips to hers so that she can kiss me. "Ah love you too, Logan ……."

**oooOOOooo**

It's almost three in the afternoon when we finally emerge from my room an' make our way to the kitchen to restock our energy levels. Strangely, our kitchen is never empty – no matter the time o' day or night, it acts as a veritable X-Men magnet, pullin' people towards its homely warmth, beggin' us to partake of its well-stocked cupboards an' friendly atmosphere – I swear it's got a life of its own. This occasion is no different. Ororo an' Scott are nursin' steamin' mugs o' coffee at the table an' Kitty is butterin' muffins at the counter. There is a soft buzz o' gentle conversation in the room, which stops the second Marie an' me enter.

Scott suddenly becomes intensely interested in the contents of his mug, but 'Ro beams at us warmly, an' Kitty turns from the counter with a grin.

"There you both are! Geez, Rogue, we thought you were gonna stay holed up in Wolvie's room all day!"

I growl at mention o' that damn nickname – blasted firecracker's got a lot to answer for – but Marie places a calmin' hand on my arm an' blushes prettily. Kitty offers her a muffin which she accepts and moves to the table with it on a plate, pullin' out a seat next to 'Ro.

I help myself to a mug an' move to the coffee maker, feelin' Scott's eyes on me all the way. "What time did you both get home last night?" he finally asks.

"I dunno." I turn an' lean against the counter, wrappin' my fingers around the steamin' mug. "Sometime around dawn, I think."

"Logan won the cagefight!" Marie declares, proudly. "You should have been there, Storm! He was amazing!"

"Did you win a cup?" asks Kitty, pausin' in the act o' butterin' another muffin to check me out intently.

I shake my head. "Nah, jus' money. Enough to pay off the repairs to my bike, I should think."

"Speaking of which, you had a phone call earlier, Logan." 'Ro looks at me over the top of her mug, those blue eyes o' hers missin' nothin'. "Someone by the name of Mike? He said your bike is ready to pick up."

"Good." I nod, an' reach over to steal Kitty's freshly buttered muffin, causin' her to snort in annoyance an' swipe at my thievin' hand with the butter knife. "I'll jus' grab somethin' to eat an' head over an' get it. You comin', Rogue?"

"Sure." Marie nods happily, lookin' adorable with a smear o' butter on her chin, but Scott shakes his head at her willingness to join me.

"Sorry, Rogue, but we need you here for the rest of the afternoon. The Professor says you're overdue with your progress report into your control and Jean wants to run some tests."

Marie looks crestfallen. "Can't it wait?"

"No. I'm sorry. You _did_ promise to keep working with the Professor when you finally gained your control …….."

"Ah, know, ah know …….."

"…….. and the tests are imperative to ascertain whether you are experiencing any side effects to all the additional …….. contact."

Scott glances at me as he says this an' I can't help raisin' the obligatory eyebrow.

Marie looks up at me with heavy eyes. "Ah'm sorry, Logan. The tests are important. With all that's happened lately, ah've been putting them off."

I hold up a placatin' hand. "Hey, no problem, Rogue. It's only gonna be a trip to the shop an' back anyway. An' I'll have ya all to myself when I get back …….."

Marie nods happily an' blows me a kiss. "Lookin' forward to it, sugah."

Scott lets out a snort. "Oh, for heaven's sake, you two, get a room!"

"We've got one, thanks. Which I intend to make full use of when I get back." I shove the last o' the muffin in my mouth an' swallow almost without chewin'. "If I set off now I can be back in time for dinner." I gulp the still scaldin' hot coffee an' reach around Kitty to place the mug on the drainer. "Nice muffin, by the way," I add with a grin.

"Next time, butter your own," she responds quickly, but her tone is light an' there is a twinkle in her eye as she smiles back at me. Seems as though I've suddenly gained somethin' of a fanbase.

I grab a set o' keys from the motor pool, detour around the table to drop a farewell kiss onto the top o' Marie's head an' head off to the garage. I've opted to take one o' the mansion's trucks – the open back will accommodate the bike nicely an' save me from havin' to take a taxi to the auto shop.

I'm just about to drive off when I catch a voice callin' me – the engine is runnin' an' I would have missed it if not for my enhanced hearin'.

"Wait! Hey, Wolvie, wait up!"

I stop an' roll down the window, frownin' when Jubilee pops her head in at the passenger side. "Whaddaya want, kid?"

Jubilee pops a pink bubble at me. "Roguey says you're heading into town?"

I nod. "Yeah. So?"

"Can I beg a lift?"

"Look, kid, I'm not runnin' a taxi service here …….."

"Oh, come on, don't be such a grouch, Wolvie. Would it kill ya to drop me off at the drugstore? I'm gonna lighten Rahne's hair tonight an' I need to pick up some dye."

I run a hand through my own hair, instantly doubtin' Rahne's sanity. "Are ya sure that's wise?" Anyone with an ounce o' sense wouldn't let Jubilee anywhere near their crownin' glory. Or anythin' else, for that matter.

Jubilee takes my query as a 'yes' an' hops into the truck beside me, poppin' her gum as she plants her sneakered feet on the dashboard. I guess there's no point in tryin' to move her without resortin' to some form o' bloodshed an' so I sigh in resignation, idlin' out o' the garage an' down the driveway, while Jubilee assures me that Rahne has wanted to lighten her hair for years but never had the courage to do so until now. I only hope the girl knows what she's let herself in for.

Once on the main pull into town, Jubilee leans forward an' begins to search the radio for somethin' to listen to. I indulge her for a moment or two, in the vain hope that she might actually hit on somethin' we can both enjoy, but when she nods in satisfaction an' begins tappin' her fingers to a god-awful din that sounds like six cats bein' strangled – badly – I lean forwards to turn it off.

"Hey! I like that song! What's the matter with you?"

She reaches for the radio again, but I slap her hand away. "Leave it."

Jubilee bounces back in her seat, grunting in annoyance. "What, you don't like music?"

"I like music just fine, Jubilee, but that …….. whatever it was ………. didn't even come close to bein' remotely called music. It was just noise."

"Well, excuse me if we don't all like Japanese arty stuff an' country." Jubilee folds her arms defiantly an' glares across the cab at me.

"I don't like country …….."

"No? You strike me as a country kind o' guy, Wolvie. Must be all the flannel an' denim …….."

I allow a growl to rumble in my chest, briefly entertainin' the idea o' guttin' the kid an' hidin' the evidence in the trees somewhere. _Bad Logan. Killin' your girl's best friend really isn't the way to get into her bed tonight. _

I make a valiant effort to be nice.

"Will ya stop callin' me that damn name? Have some respect, will ya?"

"I like it, it's cool! What's the problem? Besides, you can't be the bad-ass Wolverine all the time. There's got to be a softer side to you in there somewhere, fightin' to get out. No? Well, it was just a thought."

"Look, how would you like it if I called you Whizz-bang or Fizz-bit all the time, huh?"

Jubilee shrugs. "Whatever floats your boat, I guess, Wolvie."

I sigh an' give up. The girl obviously has no sense o' reason. I wonder if bein' annoyin' is just a natural ability on her part, or whether she has to work at it. You know, take lessons an' pass a test, or somethin'.

I turn my concentration to the road an' idly keep a look out for a likely place to bury the body ……..

We drive in silence for a time. Traffic is light at this time o' day an' there are no major hold-ups, so we're makin' good time. At this rate, we'll get there an' back in no time at all.

Maybe I can talk Marie into some pre-dinner lovin' ……..?

"Wolvie! _Look out!!"_

"What the ……..?"

The rocket comes outta the trees at the side o' the road too fast for me to avoid, although I have a damn good try, to no avail. It hits on the front driver's side, sendin' us into a skid, which turns into a somersault as the tyres dig into the road. The world spins crazily around us as the truck careens helplessly across the road, takin' me an' Jubilee along for the ride.

There's a crash as we hit the trees, the sound o' splinterin', an' then sudden stillness. I open my eyes to find myself lyin' on what was once the inner roof o' the truck, Jubilee stretched out beside me, groanin'. It's a miracle she wasn't killed.

My first priority is to get us both out o' the truck an' to safety. Whoever fired that rocket can't be far away an' it was certainly no accident. This was a deliberate attack.

It looks like my carbonadium wieldin' buddies are back ……..

Only now they're armed with more than just bullets.

I pop the claws in my right hand an' slice through the door on my side o' the truck, kickin' it free with a well placed boot. I crawl out o' the wreck, then reach back in to drag Jubilee free. She groans as I give her a quick once-over – no broken bones, luckily, but she's sportin' one hell of a gash on her forehead an' she's semi-conscious, probably sufferin' from concussion.

I gather her into my arms an' make for the trees, just as I hear the whoosh o' displaced air behind me an' another rocket slams into the side o' the truck. It explodes in a plume o' fire an' superheated metal, the blast knockin' me off my feet as a wave o' burnin' heat flows over an' around me. I can smell somethin' smoulderin' an' with a jolt o' sudden clarity I realise it's me.

This isn't good. I need to get Jubilee to safety. I struggle to my knees just as somethin' sharp thunks into my back. There's a single moment o' numbing emptiness an' then suddenly I am in a world o' pain. My whole body feels as though it's on fire – my nerves are screamin' an' my muscles spasm, an' I can't even cry out because my jaw is clenched tight. I topple forwards, landin' over Jubilee, who groans as my weight presses into her. I try to move, but my muscles have seized an' all I can do is shudder in agony as the drug I've obviously been shot with courses through my veins.

I am powerless to react as I hear the sound of approachin' footsteps. Somethin' pokes me in the back – the barrel of a gun? – an' then I am flipped over onto my back, my eyes squeezin' shut as the glare from the burnin' truck assaults my senses.

An' as I slowly fall into the black abyss of unconsciousness, I hear a chillingly familiar voice ………

"Well, well. Looks like we got two for the price o' one …….."

**NEXT: **As promised, the darkness begins ………


	16. Circumstantial Evidence

Hey everyone! Welcome to the latest chapter! I know some of you have been wondering when all the death and mayhem and darkness that I promised in my summary is going to begin, and I wanted to thank you all for sticking around and being so patient! Because right here is where it all begins! I've just been playing with you all up to now, so I hope you've fastened your seat belts because the ride is going to get very bumpy!

Once again, you've all done me proud with your reviews - I can't thank you enough! Major kudos to **Comic-cake **- (great to have you back, sweetie! I've missed you!) - **moviemom44, Sniktchick, Ren-stranger, alexmonalisa, Wolf Eos, desy, xmngrl, pepper-maroon, MidLifeCrisis, immiD, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Laudine, **and** pinkdrama!**

Onwards - darkness awaits ........

**ooXoo**

**16. Circumstantial Evidence**

**Rogue:**

_Well, that was a complete waste of time …….._

So much for the Professor assessing my control. He's gone out for the day – some charity do at the local orphanage that he's patron of – and won't be back for another couple of hours at least. By then, it'll be time for dinner and after that …….. well, he usually spends his evenings meditating, reading or playing chess with Henry. My assessment will have to wait until tomorrow.

_Dammit._

No go with Jean either. When I went down to the Med-lab, she was in the middle of some experiment that demanded constant supervision. Of course, ever the gentleman, Henry offered to run my tests but, not being familiar with my case, he really wouldn't be much help, so I said thanks, but no thanks. And now I'm feeling pretty darn peeved as I ride the elevator back to the upper levels. If not for my wild goose chase, I coulda been with Logan right now, helping to pick up the bike. Of course, I say 'helping' but I really mean getting my hands on my guy's delicious body again. God, I just can't get enough of him. I know we've barely been out of each other's company the past few days, but I need him around me like I need to breathe. I love the way he surrounds me and completes me, almost like an extension of myself. And if not for Scott and his stupid tests, we coulda been together right now – maybe getting to know each other better in the front seat of his truck.

Or the back seat – I'm not fussy. Just so long as I'm with Logan.

_Damn Scott!_ You'd think with him being the leader of the blasted team he'd have some idea of where his people were and what they were doing – and if they were actually available for what he said they needed to do. It's not asking a lot, is it? Y'know, if I had a suspicious nature, I'd swear he was trying to keep me and Logan apart.

_Hey, wait a minute …….. _Who said I didn't have a suspicious nature? Because now that I think of it, Scott hasn't exactly been Team Logan and Rogue's chief cheerleader, has he? In fact, he's been downright aggressive ever since we got together. Remember when we all thought Logan had died and I had to deck our fearless leader at the top of the stairs? I was pretty scared at the time – I thought I'd be thrown out for attacking a senior X-Man, but the Professor had been listening in and knew he deserved all he got. And possibly more.

Y'know, I never told Logan about that. He'll get such a kick out of it. I must remember to enlighten him when he gets back.

And what about the time we went cage fighting? Didn't Scott catch us in the hallway and tell me to let Logan go alone? Y'know, the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that Scott has been trying to keep us apart. Of course, it hasn't worked up to now, but the thought of it actually makes my blood boil and, by the time I exit the elevator on the ground floor of the mansion proper, I have worked myself up into such a frenzy that I actually growl at a couple of trainees who have the audacity to smile at me before I remember to rein in my inner Logan. _Oops!_ I'd actually forgotten he was still there, lurking behind the walls I've built to keep my inner voices silent. All the time I've spent with the real Logan lately seems to have appeased my ghostly feral somewhat and, apart from some faint stirrings of interest when we make out and some bawdy comments when Logan was in the cage, my Wolverine voice has been fairly quiet. Being with Logan calms me, which seems a strange way to describe a guy who seems to live on a permanent short fuse, but I don't understand the ins and outs of it. I just call it the way it falls, and I definitely feel more at ease when I'm in his company. I think he feels it too. I've actually seen him smile once or twice, and there was a time when he would never have kissed me in public. But the crowd at the cage fight witnessed some serious lip action last night. I can still feel his hands on my back, pulling my body to his as he totally possessed me with his mouth. The memory alone threatens to make my toes curl.

He's only been gone an hour or two and I already miss him. I miss his steady presence and the way he makes me just wanna melt into a puddle at his feet and worship the ground he walks on. _God, ah've got it bad! _Where has that shy and virginal runaway gone? The one who wilfully hitched a ride with a crazy haired mutant all those years ago? _Was it really only three years ago? _Well, she's turned into a man-eater, that's what happened. But there's only one man for me. Only one man that will ever be able to satisfy me and make me whole.

God, when I think of all the things I've done with Logan – done _to _Logan – over the past few days, it makes me wanna blush right down to my toes and back up again. _Dammit, but the man brings out the worst in me! _Or is that the best? I really can't tell, because one is just as good as the other. And once he gets that look in his eye, I just can't refuse him anything. I've got to give my whole self to him …….. to his hands …….. his mouth ………

_Dammit, now ah've gone an' got myself all hot an' horny for the guy! _My inner Logan is purring happily in the back of my head – he sounds sated and sleepy, much like the real Logan after we've made love. _Christ, ah've got a one track mind! _Well, at least I'm not itching to kill something anymore! Scott doesn't realise the lucky escape he's had.

Lost in thought with nowhere to go, my meanderings take me past the rec room and I glance in on the off-chance there's someone there who can help me pass the time until my lover returns home. Piotr and Kitty are playing pool – or rather, Piotr is playing and Kitty is admiring the way his muscles ripple under his tee as he lines up the shot. I think she's got it bad for the big guy, but Piotr is so wrapped up in his own little world that he honestly doesn't notice. He's such a lug sometimes.

Remy is sitting in the window seat playing cards by his lonesome and he beckons me over to join him as he sees me lurking in the doorway, but it's Bobby who manages to catch my eye. Sitting on the couch in front of the TV, he's hooked up the X-Box and is currently engaged in a racing game. He challenges me to a duel race and, never one to pass up a challenge, I accept, dropping onto the couch beside him as Remy huffs in disappointment and returns to his solo card game. Bobby tosses me the spare handset while he reloads the game and then we're off!

I lose all track of time as we race. One thing leads to another and first it's best of three, then best of five and, pretty soon, all bets are off and we're just concentrating on hammering each other into the ground. Bobby laughs at my 'driving' style, as I twist the handset when I 'drive' my car around corners, just as I would with a real steering wheel. It's a hard habit to break and, annoyed with Bobby for laughing, I let my inner Logan out just for the hell of it and try my hardest to run him off the road.

It's strange to think that this is the boy – the man – I would have given myself to some years back. Logan seemed to be pretty much unattainable back then, and he was yet to get over his Jean fixation, so I tried to form a steady relationship with someone who was clearly my own age. It didn't work. Bobby quickly realised that I was still lusting after tall, dark and dangerous, and we broke up fairly soon after that. It was all very amicable. He made a play for Kitty and it seemed pretty serious for a while, but then Colossus came along and that was the end of that. Now Bobby's on his own again. And me? I've got my dark eyed feral, just the way I wanted, but there's no animosity between me and the Iceman. Bobby's man enough to realise that he could never have held my interest once I set my sights on Logan and we're now the best of friends.

Unless we're racing, that it. Then it's every man for himself.

Bobby manages to run his car into a tree just yards from the finishing line and I win the race in spectacular fashion, flinging my hands into the air to celebrate my victory. He snorts in annoyance and begins to load the next race as Remy gets up and moves over to stand behind the couch.

"Good t'ing you're not playin' for money, eh, chere? Else de Iceman be owing you more dan jus' cash." His eyes flash dangerously as he shuffles his cards in the air in front of him with an expert hand. "Why don' you come play wit' a real man? Remy don' play for money."

_Oh yes, I know exactly what you'd play for, Remy LeBeau, and ah'm not interested._

I allow myself an easy grin. "Thanks, but no thanks, Remy. I owe Bobby a rematch."

Remy's lips pull down in a moue of disappointment, just at the phone rings out in the hall. For a moment, he looks as though he's going to go and answer it, but then someone picks up and he turns back to me just as the next race starts. "Let me know if you ever change your mind, chere."

"Okay, Remy, I will. Thanks." My mind is distracted by the race in progress and I am only vaguely aware that he wanders off back to the window seat, still shuffling his cards. Bobby is in the lead and there is a difficult corner to negotiate and I _must _get past him.

There is a sudden disturbance out in the hallway. Scott runs past, heading for the elevator, just seconds before Jean ducks her head in at the doorway.

"Colossus, we need you," she snaps, prompting Piotr to toss down his pool cue and make for the door as Jean's eyes rove across the rest of us as if weighing us up for whatever has necessitated the need for the team to mobilise. Her gaze rests for just a second on me before moving on to Bobby. "Iceman, suit up."

"Jean, what's wrong?" I stand, drawing her attention back to me, vaguely aware that my now driverless car has hurtled off the canyon road we were racing and has crashed in a spectacular fireball in the valley below. "Do you need me to suit up?"

"No, Rogue, I …….." She looks strangely distracted and I toss my handset onto the couch as she shakes her head in denial. "I've got to go."

She ducks out of the room, followed by Bobby, and I rush to the doorway just in time to catch Storm's arm as she dashes past. "Storm, what's going on?"

The weather witch shakes her head distractedly. "Your friend Mike just called. Logan never arrived at the autoshop. The Professor fears another attack."

My hand flies to my mouth in shock, my eyes automatically flicking to the clock on the mantel which reads 06.32. I've lost all track of time! Logan's been gone for three and a half hours – plenty of time to get to the autoshop and back. _Oh god …….._

Storm pulls her arm from my suddenly rigid grasp. "We're scrambling the jet, Rogue. If he is out there, we will find him and bring him back. I promise."

She hurries off down the hallway to where Scott is marshalling his team at the elevator, sending them down to the lower levels as they arrive. My body feels frozen to the spot in shock, my blood running cold like ice. My head feels as though a thousand angry bees have taken up residence there, filling up my mind with their tortured buzz, the sound drowning out my inner voices …….

And then a single lucid thought breaks through the white static ……..

"_Scott!"_

The team leader holds the doors back just as they were about to close, stepping back out into the hallway. "What is it, Rogue? There isn't time ……."

"It's Jubilee, Scott." My body is moving again, driven forward by pure adrenalin, fuelled by fear for my friend. I am wringing my hands together as I try to make Scott understand the awful truth. "Jubilee ……. she's ……. she's with Logan."

Scott staggers under the force of my revelation, bracing himself with a hand on the wall. His face drains of all colour and his lips move soundlessly as he struggles to make sense of my words. "How the hell …….?" He shakes his head and pulls himself upright, determination evident in the set of his shoulders. "No time. We have to go."

"Let me go with you." I reach for him, plaintively, but he is already stepping back into the elevator, shaking his head. "No, Rogue. You're too close to this." And the doors close, shutting him off from me and whisking him down to the lower levels.

I stare at the door in front of me, foolishly willing them to open – for Scott to change his mind and come back to tell me to suit up. But they remain stubbornly closed and suddenly the awful truth comes crashing down into my mind – Logan and Jubilee are missing. They may be hurt – even dead – and it's all my fault. It's all my fault for not being with them.

My eyes fill with burning tears and suddenly I am running down the hallway, barely able to see where I am going through the panic that clouds my vision. I hear a voice calling for me – Kitty – but I can't answer. My throat is tight – burning – and I choke back a sob as I push through the front door and race across the immaculate lawn, hurdling small bushes and planted borders that lay in my path. God knows where I am going – all I know is the need to run, to put some space between myself and the dreadful feeling of helplessness that I can't outrun no matter how hard I try.

I reach the Japanese garden just as the jet rises up from behind the house and angles itself towards Salem Center, streaking forward with a roar of thunderous afterburners. And I drop to my knees right there, surrounded by the Japanese maples that Logan loves so much, crying silent tears and praying for my lover's safe return – praying to anyone who will listen and asking for divine intervention.

Kitty finds me there, still on my knees, and helps me gently to my feet, giving me a tissue so that I can blow my nose and wipe my puffy eyes. She murmurs words of encouragement, trying to convince me that it's too early to worry – that maybe Logan and Jubilee dropped off somewhere for a drink before picking up the bike and I try to believe that her words have the ring of truth about them. But inside I know they are false, because Logan would not have stopped off anywhere without calling to tell me first. Not when he was so looking forward to taking me back to his bed.

Somehow, Kitty manages to get me upstairs and into my room, where I stand in front of the window, watching for the jet's return. Kitty stays with me, sitting on the bed and all the time telling me that everything will be alright. I wish I could believe her. I wish I could roll back time and stop Logan from setting out this afternoon. I wish we'd stayed in his bed. I wish ……. Oh, how I wish ……..!

Remy comes to see if I am alright, but Kitty shoo-es him away, telling him I'd rather be alone right now but thanking him for his concern. He leaves, but not before he places a rose in her hand, freshly picked from the garden, and asks her to give it to me. Kitty promises but, when he's gone, she fetches a glass of water from the bathroom and places it and the rose on my bedside table. It looks so silly, hanging over the side of the glass, that I want to laugh and I realise I am no longer in control of my emotions and I want to whimper or break something …….. do anything other than stand here waiting for the jet to return. Why wouldn't they let me go with them? My inner Logan breaks free, whispering vile threats against those who have caused me pain, and I curl my hands into fists, my knuckles itching to release claws that I do not have.

_A jet! I hear the jet!_

Kitty rushes to my side and together we scan the sky, seeking for the Blackbird and the first ray of hope. At first we see nothing and then the sleek machine streaks across the sky, flying just above the tree-line in stealth mode, seeking to avoid radar detection as it comes in to land, hopefully bearing a precious cargo.

Kitty and I turn as one and run for the hallway, taking the stairs two at a time as we hasten for the elevator. The doors are not as quick to open as I would like and I pound on them with a fist as we wait on them impatiently, shouting at them to hurry. And then they are open and we are in the elevator and being whisked downwards, my lips moving in a silent prayer, hoping to see Logan again alive and well, but all the time fearing the worst.

We are moving again the moment the lift stops, pushing through the gap in the doors almost before it is wide enough to let us through. The stark metal walls of the lower levels flash by as we race each other to the hanger, each hoping to be the first to shout good news to the other – each hoping to see Logan come swaggering out of the jet with a smirk on his face and his ever present cigar clamped between his teeth, and claiming to have such a story to tell.

And then we slide around a corner just in time to see a covered gurney being wheeled into the Med-lab between Jean and Scott ……..

We skid to a halt in front of the Med-lab doors just as they rumble closed before us. My chest heaving, I lean forwards and rest my head on the cool metal, unwilling to admit to myself what I've just seen.

Kitty is not so reluctant. "Was that …….. was that a body?"

I shake my head in denial. Because Logan can't die. He's proved it. He's cheated death more times than I can count. He's survived being shot with carbonadium bullets and autopsied, for Christ's sake! And as long as Logan is alive, he would allow nothing to happen to Jubilee. I'm sure of it. Oh, he pretends to hate her and he threatens her with bodily violence at least twice a week, but deep down he cares for her – he cares for all of our trainees and would never allow anything to happen to any one of them as long as there was breath in his body.

As long as he still lived ……..

_Oh please god …….._

I feel a moan well up in my throat as a dreadful weight settles on my heart. Kitty drapes her arm loosely around my shoulders, lending me her support as well as sharing my sorrow, both of us unwilling to believe what we have just seen, but equally unable to deny it. My hope becomes a mantra in my head that I keep repeating over and over. As long as I say it, there's still a chance …….

_He's still alive ……. He's still alive ……. He's still …….._

We jump back as the Med-lab doors open, releasing Storm, who jerks slightly, surprised to see us there. She looks tired – worn – her face is smudged and there is a scorch mark in her usually pristine leather cape.

I reach out to grab her hand before she can walk away. "Storm! Is Logan okay? And Jubilee …….?"

She runs a hand across her face – there is dirt on her fingers and one immaculately painted nail is broken. "You can't go in there, Rogue. Go to your room."

"But Logan …….?"

She pulls away from my weakening grasp, beginning to move away. "Go to your room! We will tell you what has happened as soon as we have news for you."

And she walks briskly away, her back straight and her arms held stiffly at her sides, but before she rounds the corner she doubles over as if in pain and we hear her take a shuddering breath.

Kitty looks at me, her eyes wide with fear. "What's going on, Rogue?"

"Ah don't know, but ah have to get in there." The Med-lab is on lock-down – the doors will now only open from the inside. "Kitty, you have to phase us through the door."

"No!" Kitty takes a step back. "Storm told us to keep out! We'll get into trouble!"

She doesn't fool me. It's not the trouble she fears. She fears what we'll find inside the lab.

But I have to know.

"Kitty, please ……..?" I hold out my hand, pleadingly. She knows I could take her power if I wanted to – I _will_ take her power if she forces me to – but I need her to do this willingly.

She holds my gaze for a second or two. Then she nods and takes my hand and we walk forwards …….. and through the door.

The Med-lab lights have been dimmed slightly and, for a moment, hope flairs. They've obviously dimmed the lights to spare Logan's eyes – he always finds the Med-lab too bright and the lights hurt him. I immediately see Jean, Scott and Henry gathered around an examination table at the far side of the lab and we creep forward, still hand in hand, reluctant to let go. Jean shifts slightly and something flashes in the dim light. Logan's claws? Can't he sheath them? Is that what's wrong?

And then the three X-Men move away from the table to consult some readings scrolling across Henry's computer screen, giving us a completely unhindered view of what's lying on the table.

And I find myself staring at a complete and perfectly formed shiny metal skeleton ……

"_**Nooo!"**_

The scream leaves my throat before I even realise it's formed and Jean jerks around, hurrying over to pull us both into her arms, shielding us from the body on the table. Scott flips a cloth over it, hiding the gory remains, but it's too late, we've already seen and I wish to god I hadn't.

Kitty is crying openly, clutching at Jean as though afraid to let go. "Jubilee?" she gasps, between sobs.

Jean shakes her head, sadly. "I'm sorry, Kitty. There was nothing left ……"

I begin to scream then, an awful high-pitched wailing that tears at my throat and makes my eyes burn. I struggle to get away from Jean – to get away from the thing on the table, because it's _not_ my Logan. It can't be. But Jean is crying too and Henry has his head in his hands, and suddenly the awful truth comes crashing home.

I've just lost my lover and my best friend on the same day ……..

The room spins and the floor comes up to meet me as I lose my grip on reality. And right before I slip away into blessed oblivion, I hear the words Logan spoke to me this very morning – words that meant so much to me and made me the happiest girl alive.

_I love you, Marie. God, I love you so much …….._

And somewhere, alone in the silence of the night, a wolverine howls at the moon ……..

**NEXT: **In the hands of the enemy!


	17. Resurrecting the Weapon

Hey everyone! Well, I really sparked some comments with the last chapter! I **do** love giving you all a shock!

Many thanks to all who found time to leave a review and let me know what a (insert rude word here!) I am for killing off Logan **again! **Major kudos to **moviemom44, Comic-cake, Wolf Eos, Mrstrentreznor, MidLifeCrisis, alexmonalisa, lovingmama23, Ren-stranger, pepper-maroon, xmngrl, Laudine, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Snow leopard freak **and** Masanya!**

Hope you're all ready for this, guys! Major darkness ahead ...... !

**17. Resurrecting the Weapon**

_***…….. Beep ……..***_

"Okay, people, we're gonna have just seconds to do this, so I want it by the numbers. If Weapon X's healing factor is as good as they say it is, he's gonna be coming outta the tranq any minute now. Crowe?"

"Sir!"

"Any signs yet?"

"Heartbeat's real slow, but steady, Sir. He's still under."

_***…….. Beep …….. ***_

"Good. Frost, you finished with those cuffs yet?"

"Last one going on now, Sir. His claws are locked up tighter than a virgin in a whorehouse."

"You'd better be sure they are, Frost. Otherwise I'm puttin' you in the firing line if he breaks free."

"Copy that, Sir."

* _**…….. Bee-bip …….. ***_

"Sir! I'm getting positive readings! I think he's coming out of it!"

"Oh god …….."

"S'matta, Gorman? You afraid o' one little ol' Wolverine?"

"You would be too, Sir, if you'd seen what he can do."

"I _have_ seen what he can do, Gorman. I was there the night he broke free and decimated half the base in his rampage to get out. Woulda killed me too, but I slipped on some blood in the retreat and the corpse of a soldier he'd just eviscerated and thrown landed on me. I owe that soldier my life. The scent of his dying body covered the scent of my live one."

"Jesus ……."

_*** …….. Bee-bip …….. Bee-bip …….. ***_

"He's definitely coming around, Sir!"

"Okay, places everybody! Hudson, where's the god-damn carbonadium serum?"

"Here, Sir!"

_*** **__**…… Bee-bip …… Bee-bip …… Bee-bip ……***_

"I still don't know why he has to be conscious for this stage of the procedure, Sir. He's dangerous. We shouldn't be taking unnecessary risks."

"You _know_ why he has to be conscious, Gorman. He has to know exactly what we're doing to him and that we control him now. He has to know his life as an X-Man is over."

_*** …. Bee-bip …. Bee-bip …. Bee-bip …. ***_

"_Grrrr …… !"_

"Sir! He's ……..!"

"I have ears, Crowe, I can hear him! This is it! Asses and elbows, people! Asses and elbows!"

**oooOOOooo**

_Where the hell am I ……..?_

The last thing I remember, I …….. So hazy …….. The bike …….. Yeah, that's it, I was goin' to pick up the bike. There was an explosion …….. heat …….. pain …….. I was tranqed …….. a voice ……… Who ……..?

_Jubilee …….. !_

_Christ, where is she …….. ?_

I fight my way up through the last clingin' veils o' darkness, openin' my eyes to …….. nothin' ……..? The room around me is in blackout, but I can smell the unmistakable stink o' chemicals an' my body stiffens, the hackles on the back o' my neck risin'. Nightmarish images flood, unbidden, into my mind an' I bite back the snarl that forms on my lips, forcin' myself to focus …….. to stay in control.

There are others here ……... I can smell 'em in the darkness …….. hear 'em movin' around me, an' I growl low in my throat, lettin' 'em know I'm awake an' I'm pretty damn pissed off. If they wanna take me captive, fine, but they'd better be prepared to deal with the consequences.

I try to move, but somethin' holds me down. _What the hell ……..? _I'm on my back, fastened to some sort o' table. It feels smooth, like metal. There are restraints across my ankles an' wrists – I can feel 'em pressin' into my skin when I strain against 'em. Feels like there's one across my waist too.

_Christ, I can't move! _Panic once again flows over me an' again I manage to fight it down, though my heart is poundin' fit to burst. I struggle against the restraints, suddenly noticin' that I'm bare to the waist. The stink o' chemicals clings to my skin like a cancer. _Jesus, what's been done to me?_

Without warnin', the room is suddenly flooded with light an' I twist my head to the side, squeezin' my eyes shut against the glare that has dazzled them. I count to ten before crackin' them open, instantly recognisin' the stark surroundings of a lab an' once again feelin' the twinges o' fear from the beast within. He's prowlin' the bars of his cage, snarlin', lookin' for a way out. He's agitated – he don't like bein' restrained like this. Can't say as it appeals to me, either. The images it provokes are disturbin' an' I push them firmly from my mind. Gotta stay focused.

Once my eyes have adjusted to the light, I can see men stationed around the room. Some are seated at consoles, others are coverin' me with weapons. All are grim faced an' wearin' camouflage fatigues.

_Christ, what the hell have I stumbled into?_

A man walks forward. He's the only man standin' who isn't holdin' some sort o' weapon an' I figure him for the guy in charge. He stops at the side o' my table an' stares down at me like I'm somethin' interestin' under a microscope an' I stare right back, tryin' to ignore the strange pricklin' feelin' at the back o' my memory. There's somethin' familiar about this guy an' I can't quite put my finger on it ……..

An then he speaks, an' his words send a sharp spike o' fear straight to my heart ……..

"Hello, Weapon X."

Years o' survivin' have taught me never to betray my emotions or intentions to the enemy, so my voice is steady as I force a reply. "Do I know you?"

The man inclines his head in thoughtful contemplation. "Possibly. Possibly not. Your mind was wiped so many times at the orders of the programme that I am surprised you can remember your own name." He laughs suddenly, as though at a private joke. "Ah, but you can't remember your name, can you, Weapon X? The man you know as 'Logan' is a myth – a fabrication – nothing more."

"Who are you?" I growl between clenched teeth, tryin' to ignore the icy touch o' dread which is creepin' over me.

"Who I am isn't important right now." He gestures to a man holdin' a hypo an' he walks towards me, the syringe with its unknown contents held before him like a weapon. I eye him warily as he moves around the table to stand on my left, awaitin' further orders. "Our techs have already completed the first stage of your re-adjustment, Wolverine. This is the second. Your free life is over. You are ours now."

"Like hell, bub," I snarl, an' pop the claws in my left hand.

_Jesus Christ ……..! _My left forearm spasms in burnin' pain, the muscles clenchin' around claws that refuse to move as I howl with the agony of it. I can hear the guy with the hypo yellin' at me to retract, but like the stubborn bastard that I am I refuse to believe that this will help me an' I strain ineffectually at the restraint, growlin' like a madman. My arm feels like it's bein' hacked off at the wrist an' when he puts the hypo down beside me to knead the muscles in my forearm, I foolishly try to pop the claws in my right hand, believin' myself to be under attack an' trustin' in the appearance o' my blades to get me out o' the danger. The resultin' surge o' pain drives the man under, and the beast seizes the opportunity to emerge ……..

_*** ... Bee-bip … Bee-bip … Bee-bip … Bee-bip …***_

"Sir! We're losing him! He's going feral!"

"God-dammit! Jenson, get over here! Sedate him before he damages himself!"

"Sir!"

"Christ Almighty, that howling …….. Why the hell did he try to unsheathe the claws in his other hand when he'd already unsuccessfully tried his left?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Gorman. He's an animal. They don't think, they just act on instinct."

"He couldn't retract. I tried to help him, tried to massage and loosen the muscles, but he just went crazy."

"Like I said, Frost, he's an animal. And if I ever catch you touching him again without orders, I'll shoot you myself. Got it?"

"Copy that, Sir."

"Are we going to administer the carbonadium serum while he's out, Sir? It'll be a lot safer."

"No. I still want him to know what we're putting into him and why. Crowe, is he out yet?"

* _**…….. Beep …….. ***_

"Yes, Sir. Sleeping like a baby."

"Good. Get him unshackled and put him in with the girl until he comes around. Maybe he'll be a tad more compliant if he thinks her virginity is about to be threatened, if you take my meaning."

"I do, Sir. Shall I tell Bonebreaker to be prepared? He owes Wolverine some payback and the girl is young – the way he likes them."

"Yes, please do. Oh, and Gorman?"

"Sir?"

"Remind our mutual friend that the terms of our bargain are, as yet, still unfulfilled. He may have given us Wolverine, but he will not receive the reward until Weapon X has made his first kill for us."

"Yes, Sir."

_*** …….. Beee …….. ***_

**oooOOOooo**

"Wolvie? Hey, Wolvie, c'mon, wake up."

"Wha ……..?" Oh god, not again. Why do I keep wakin' up in strange places with the stink o' chemicals around me? Why do people keep stickin' needles in me?

"Wolvie? Hey, c'mon big guy, snap out of it, you're creepin' me out!"

Voice sounds familiar. Female. Young. Do I know her? God, why do I feel so dizzy? Have I been hit by the Hulk again?

I force my eyes open, blinking through the milky blur to see a face hoverin' above me. Unmistakably female, with a hint o' white in the dark hair. She looks worried.

_Wait a minute? White ……..?_

"Marie? That you ……..?"

"Who the hell's Marie? You two-timing Rogue, you hairy bastard? I oughta kick your metal ass from here to kingdom come …….."

_Jesus, I know that voice. _I blink hard an' shake my head an' finally my vision clears to reveal my worst nightmare. "Hey, Jubilee," I manage, somewhat shakily. God, my throat feels as though it's been burned raw. "You okay, kid?"

She nods, carefully, an' I notice she's wearing a bloodstained dressin' on her forehead. The flash o' white made me think o' Marie. At least our captors were kind enough to treat her wounds.

"How long have I been out?"

"Hours." Jubilee sits back on her haunches an' regards me, intently. "Our jailors aren't too good on hospitality, I must say. They coulda dropped your heavy ass on the bed and saved me a whole heap o' trouble, but no, they marched in, threw ya on the floor and left. I spent an hour tryin' to get ya up and onto the bed before giving up and leaving ya there. So if you've got cramp, it ain't my fault."

"Thanks," I croak.

"You're welcome." She leans over me an' looks down at my face. "Ya wanna get up now?"

"Yeah." She helps me up into a sittin' position, where I sway slightly an' put a hand to my head. Only I end up bashin' myself in the face with somethin' metal. "Ow! What the hell ……..?"

"Oh yeah," says Jubilee, helpfully. "I forgot to warn you about those. I figure they're to stop you from doing your thing. You know – grrr, slash!"

She makes a slicin' motion with her fist an' I give her a level glare before turnin' back to study my hands. They're encased in metal cuffs between wrist an' first finger joint an' look like metal mittens. There's a hole for my thumb an' a seam that runs down the back edge, so at least they're meant to come off, although there's no sign of a lock. The mechanism is probably electronic. They've obviously been designed with one purpose in mind an' it's equally as obvious that they're the reason why I suffered so much pain earlier. Tryin' to unsheathe claws that suddenly have no exit would cause my muscles to go into painful spasm.

Jubilee is eyeing the cuffs with great interest. "It's going to be real interesting going to the …….. ah …….." She jerks a thumb behind her to the toilet I can see at the back of our cell. "And don't even think about …….." She makes an up an' down movement with her hand.

"Christ, Jubilee!" I push away from her an' stagger to my feet, swayin' a moment as I get my bearings.

"Well, I'm just saying, so don't even think of asking for my help, that's all." Jubilee gets up an' moves huffily to the single cot bed set against the wall an' throws herself down onto it.

With only the tips o' my fingers protrudin' from the cuffs, I don't even wanna think about how right she might be, an' file the problem for later contemplation.

Now that I'm on my feet, I turn an' survey our surroundings. Four metal walls with a single barred door – check. One cot against the side wall – check. Toilet an' small handbasin on rear wall – check. An' that's it. Not much in the way o' luxury, unless you count the scratchy lookin' blanket on the cot. Oh, an' the toilet has a partition screenin' it off from the rest o' the cell. It looks hastily erected an' I figure it's been put there for Jubilee's benefit. Looks like our captors have at least some sense o' decency.

A flashin' light up near the ceiling draws my attention to the camera that's obviously monitoring our movements. An idea begins to form in my head.

"Jubilee, you used your powers since bein' put in here?"

The firecracker shakes her head. "No. Dr Grey always warns us not to use our powers when we've had a bang on the head in case we do more damage. An' I was too dizzy to try."

"That's good."

"Good? That I've been hit on the head? Gee, Wolvie, you're so caring. I really see why Rogue digs you so much."

I stifle an annoyed growl. "No, Fizz-bang, I mean it's good that you haven't used your powers. We're bein' watched, an' the less our captors know about you, the better."

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?" Jubilee folds her arms, defiantly. "An' if you're gonna insult my powers with an amusing nickname, you could at least be consistent. I believe the terms you used were 'Whizz-bang' and 'Fizz-bit'. Not Fizz-bang."

This time I allow the growl to surface an' she slumps back onto the bed with a snort. Of all the flamin' people I coulda been captured with, it hadda be Jubilee. Why not Kitty, for Chrissakes? She at least feeds me chicken. I'd even settle for the Iceprick. But Jubilee …….?

Someone up there must really hate me.

Giving her a final glare, I turn back to the camera …….. an' at this point, with my nose in the air, I suddenly notice somethin' else.

"Can you smell anythin'?" I ask.

"Is this a trick question?"

"No. Just answer me, god-dammit."

Jubilee takes an experimental sniff. "No. Should I?"

"I don't know." There's definitely somethin' in the air, but it's faint an' elusive an' I can't put my finger on it. Is it somethin' I should be worried about? Without knowin' what it is, I dunno.

"Interesting scent, is it not?" The voice at the door startles me an' I spin around to see the guy from the lab standin' at the bars. _Jesus!_ I didn't even hear him approach. I must be more out of it than I thought.

"It's a neural suppressant," he continues, conversationally, as the cell door opens an' he steps inside, flanked by two guards with weapons. I back off, puttin' myself between Jubilee – who is now standin' warily against the wall – an' any potential threat. "It's designed to suppress any hostile tendencies and keep a subject docile. It is specifically keyed to your unique physiology, Wolverine, although I am told it will also affect other mutants to a lesser degree. So if you are a mutant, my dear …." this to Jubilee, "I am afraid its ……" He draws his finger across his throat.

Jubilee squeaks in alarm. "I'm dead?"

"No, my dear, I mean that your mutant abilities will be severely muted, if not negated completely. But you will be quite safe here until we can figure out what to do with you. Of course, I use the word 'safe' in its broadest sense."

"What the hell do you want, buster?" Jubilee obviously doesn't take well to bein' threatened.

"Want? We've got what we wanted, young lady, and that was Weapon X. Nothing more, nothing less." He looks back to me an' I grunt in reply. "You still don't remember me, do you? And yet, you should. I played a huge role in helping you become what you are now."

"I'm an X-Man," I remind him, forcefully.

"Yet once you were intended to be a weapon for hire, Wolverine. I was your handler then, a man by the name of Steven Roberts, although you probably didn't know that at the time. I was good at my job. I intend be so again."

The snarl that distorts my features is brutal and intended to intimidate. My memories o' my treatment at the hands o' the Weapon X project are hazy at best, but they surface most often in my nightmares and they always remember my 'handlers' – vicious men who took delight in causin' pain an' misery just for the sake of it. Apparently, machine gunnin' me half to death an' then leavin' me to heal in a pool o' my own blood was considered an evening's entertainment.

"We've gone to a lot of trouble to reacquire you, Wolverine. The reasons for this do not concern you at this time. However, before you can be sent into the field, there are still one or two adjustments that have to be made to your attitude."

My blood runs cold at the words, nightmarish images o' helmets an' power packs an' nameless machines flowin' like insidious snakes into my mind. I drop into a fightin' crouch, my hands raisin' before me. I can't pop my claws, but I can still use my fists. "Ya can ferget all about the re-adjustin', bub," I growl, roughly. "Ya ain't gettin' yer hands on me again."

"Really?" Roberts folds his arms an' looks back at me, calmly. "Have you forgotten waking up in our lab so soon? Stage one of your re-adjustment has already been made. Maybe you would care to investigate the back of your neck?"

"My neck ……..?" I reluctantly reach back, the tips o' my fingers encounterin' a round metal surface just below my hairline. It seems to have been embedded into the skin. "What the hell …….?"

"The port's function will become clear at a later date." Roberts smiles, but there is no mirth or warmth in it – just pure malice. "And in case you are wondering why your healing factor hasn't rejected it, it has been keyed to your own genetic code. Your body thinks it's simply an extension of itself. As for the whys and wherefores of that, allow me to re-introduce you to an old acquaintance of yours, Wolverine."

Roberts steps back, as another larger figure enters the cell – one I instantly recognise. "Bonebreaker," I snarl.

"Glad to see you remember me, Wolverine." The 'cage fighter' grins at me, flexin' his fingers, a ring on one hand immediately drawin' my attention. He waggles it at me. "Remember this, too?"

"You cut me …….." My fingers go unconsciously to my cheek, recalling the cut the ring inflicted there – the words that had provoked me to attack him in defence o' Marie. "My god …….." It all comes crashin' home. The threat to Marie's safety was a lie – a deliberate ruse to get me to drop my guard an' lose control so that he could cut me an' sample my DNA.

"I see it's finally beginning to register just how much planning has gone into re-acquiring you, Wolverine." Roberts is now standin' beside Bonebreaker, flanked by his two guards. "You are ours now, and we don't intend for you to forget it."

"If you think the X-Men are going to just stand by and let you kidnap one of the team without them doing something about it, mister, then you're hugely mistaken." Jubilee stalks forward, her eyes flashing angrily. I try to push her back behind me, but she's obviously reached the end of her patience and adrenalin is beginning to kick in, stealin' away some of her fear. "The X-Men will track us down and rescue us, and then you'll all be very sorry."

"Oh, I don't think so." Roberts shakes his head, lookin' so obviously pleased with himself that my fingers itch to wipe that self-satisfied smirk right off his face, "You see, my dear, we planted evidence in your truck to make your team-mates believe that Wolverine was still in it when it blew. Right now, they think that he and, by extension, yourself, are very much dead. There will be no rescue."

Jubilee heaves a startled gasp. Welcome to _my _world, kid. An' then Roberts gestures one of his men forward. "Enough chit chat. Let's proceed with the re-adjustment, shall we?"

As one of the guards steps forward, all hell breaks lose. My claws are useless, but the cuffs on my hands make fairly good weapons in themselves an' I deck the guard with one blow. I am already springin' for the next before Roberts realises what's happened. I hear Jubilee shriek as I knock his weapon away an' tackle him to the ground, but I daren't look around – I have to stay focused if I'm gonna get us both outta here in one piece.

Two more guards rush in from the hallway an' I haul the semi-conscious guard to his feet just in time to see Roberts backhand Jubilee across the face, sendin' her tumblin' to the cot. Bonebreaker is on her like a rash, pinnin' the strugglin' girl down as he laughs an' paws at her body.

"Let her go!" I yell, wrappin' my arm around the neck o' the guard I'm holdin' an' backin' us up against the wall. The two new guys are now coverin' me with their weapons, creatin' somethin' of a Mexican stand off. "I swear I'll break his neck! Let her go!"

Roberts shrugs, indifferently. "So kill him. My guards will tranq you, Frost will administer the second stage of the procedure and Bonebreaker will still get to have his fun."

Jubilee screams an' I glance across, horrified, to see Bonebreaker yankin' at the girl's jeans, exposin' her panties. Panicked, she flings out her hands to release her fireworks, producin' only a couple of half-hearted sparks an' fizzles. Laughing, Bonebreaker catches her small hands in his, holdin' her down as he opens his fly an' pulls out his engorged shaft.

Jubilee's terrified whimpers prompt me into action.

Howlin' I hurl the guard I am holdin' into one o' those coverin' me. They both go down in a tangle o' limbs. The second actually gets off a shot – I hear somethin' sizzle past my ear – but then my metal fist lays him out cold next to the flailin' bodies of his companions an' I am leapin' for Bonebreaker before he even hits the floor. But then I hear the sharp retort of a firearm bein' fired an' the next thing I know I am writhin' in agony on the floor as what feels like a million volts o' electricity courses through my body.

Roberts moves calmly to stand over me, oblivious to the groans of his men who are strugglin' to their feet, and to the frightened sobbin' o' Jubilee. "That was only a taste of what our pulse rifles can do, Wolverine. Your body is rather susceptible to electric shock, thanks to your metal skeleton so, if you'd rather not find out just how much damage your healing factor can withstand, I suggest you stand down."

I groan an' roll over onto my back, every movement a battle as my body screams out in agony. I've fallen just shy o' the cot an' I look up to see Bonebreaker leerin' down at me. He's still holdin' Jubilee down, one foot on the floor, the opposite knee keepin' her legs spread for him as he strokes his cock in anticipation, oblivious to her frantic whimpers.

"I was hoping we could do this in a far more amicable fashion, Wolverine, but I'm afraid you have left me no choice." Roberts places a booted foot on my outstretched wrist, grindin' it into the floor as he speaks. It's a purely callous gesture – I am in no condition to fight further an' he knows it – he's simply provin' his dominance over me. "You can allow Frost to inject you with our serum and end this in a civilised way. Or you can refuse – we will then tranq you, inject you anyway and Bonebreaker will rape your friend. What is it to be, Wolverine?"

"What's my guarantee that you won't let Bonebreaker rape her anyway?" I force out, through clenched teeth.

Roberts considers this a moment. "No guarantee whatsoever, actually. You'll just have to trust me."

I don't like the terms, but what other choice do I have? "Do it," I growl.

Roberts nods at Frost, who approaches with the hypo an' kneels down beside me. I flinch as he presses it to my neck, sendin' the contents coursin' into my veins. "What's in it?" I ask, not really expectin' an answer.

"It's actually a …….." Frost begins, but is cut off by Roberts, who nudges him with his foot. Frost gets to his feet an' backs away.

"The contents of the serum do not concern you at this point in time, Wolverine. However, all will become clear when we administer the third and final stage of your treatment. So, until then …….." He gestures at Bonebreaker, who slowly, an' with some reluctance, releases Jubilee. She immediately throws herself off the cot an' out of his reach, retreatin' to the rear of the cell as far as she can go, where she adjusts her clothin' with heavin' sobs.

Bonebreaker takes his time puttin' himself away an' all the while I am vowing to make him pay.

Their mission complete, Roberts and his men file out of the cell, one of his guards hangin' back to cover me and Jubilee until everyone has exited safely. As the cell door closes, Roberts hesitates in front o' the bars. "By the way, Wolverine, I will see to it that your dosage of suppressant is increased. The current level obviously isn't sufficient to keep you docile."

"Yeah, you do that," I growl back, as he walks away.

As silence returns to the cell, I remain on my back, breathin' heavily with my exertions. My neck itches where I was injected. I wish I knew what was in the stuff – it can't be good – but for now, I got other priorities. Jubilee is still whimperin' at the back of the cell, but when I begin to struggle to my knees she rushes over an' all but throws herself into my arms, knockin' me back slightly.

"Oh god, Wolverine, I thought …….. I thought …….."

"Shh, darlin', it's all over now." I pull her to me, wrappin' her in the protection o' my arms, whisperin' soothin' nonsense as she sobs into my chest. Truth is, I don't think it _is _all over, but I can hardly tell her that. The lie, however, seems to do her some good an' eventually she quietens, allowin' me to hitch back against the cot. When I try to stand up, she stiffens an' clings to me tightly, so I make myself as comfortable as I can an' just hold her, lettin' my presence an' warmth comfort her. The scent o' the suppressant shifts as we rest, growin' stronger, makin' me sleepy, an' I'm hardly aware as we fall into a light sleep for a time.

A noise outside the cell jerks me awake, rousin' Jubilee, who stirs against me sleepily. Seein' me starin' at the cell door, her eyes widen in alarm, an' she tries to pull away, but it's not Roberts. As messed up as my senses are, I have his scent an' I know it's not him out in the hallway. I put a finger to my lips to reassure her, just as a throaty chuckle reaches my ears an' a shadow falls across the doorway.

An' then he speaks, an' it's the voice I heard out on the roadway, still achingly familiar an' loaded with malice.

"Hello, Jimmy. Remember me ……?"

**NEXT: **A face from the past …… and just what have they injected Wolverine with?

**Author's Notes!** I don't often leave a message for you down here, but I just thought I ought to make one or two things clear about the Weapon X project. For the sake of this story, I have used the Comic version of the Project, which was far more horrific and prolonged than the movie version. Wolverine was an unwilling participant in the project, having being abducted coming out of a bar, and was held for months, during which time he was subjected to numerous experiments, barbaric treatment and mind wipes, as well as having the adamantium forcibly bonded to his skeleton. He finally escaped his tormentors in a single night of bloodshed, but his mind was so damaged by his experience that he lived feral in the mountains for a time, before eventually being found (shot actually!) by a young couple who nursed him back to health and helped him to regain his humanity. This version of events is far more likely to have caused the nightmares from the movies than the version that appeared in X-Men Origins: Wolverine. So I hope you will forgive me for taking one or two liberties with the storyline! It will all be for the best, believe me!


	18. Deadly Poison

Hey everyone! Yep, welcome to another chapter!

Many thanks to all who clicked that little button at the bottom of the page and left a review! Major kudos to **moviemom44, Comic-cake, lovingmama23, Dumesweeney, Sniktchick, pepper-maroon, alexmonalisa, Laudine, notashamedtobesoilyfan, MidLifeCrisis, Ren-stranger, Snow leopard freak **and** pinkdrama!**

And now ........ onward! There's a stranger at the door!!

**18. Deadly Poison**

"Who the hell are you?" I'm gettin' royally pissed off with all this 'You don't remember me, do you?' shit an' my voice comes out as a rough snarl. Jubilee flinches at my side, but draws back slightly, as if sensin' that I may have to act quickly.

The stranger at the cell door chuckles, throatily. "Oh come on, Jimmy! I'm hurt! You're actually tellin' me you don't remember your own brother?"

"Bullshit!" I'm on my feet in an instant, although the sudden movement makes my head swim slightly. I shake my head agitatedly, tryin' to clear the effects o' the suppressant as I raise my hands to unsheathe my claws, rememberin' the cuffs just in time to save myself from a world o' hurt. Stalkin' forward, I swipe a cuff across the bars o' the door, sendin' sparks flyin'. "I ain't got a brother!"

"Are you sure o' that, Jimmy?" If the stranger is intimidated by my pathetic show o' defiance, he doesn't betray it. His lips draw back in a grin that reveals canines slightly longer than my own. "They really did a number on your head, didn't they?"

"That's none o' your god-damn business!" His words cut deep an' he knows it. If there's one thing I truly know about myself, it's that I suffered more pain at the hands o' the original Weapon X project than I could ever imagine. They ran barbaric experiments on me – sent me out to kill time after time. Constant mind-wipes kept me compliant. I can't even trust the memories I _do_ have o' that time – false implants were often uploaded to see how I'd react to the stimuli. My mind is a turbulent fucked up mess.

An' Jeannie wonders why I don't like telepaths pokin' around in there.

A soft hand suddenly slides around my waist an' I realise I am standin' with my head bowed as I let the fractured images o' my past wash over me. Jubilee, obviously sensin' my discomfort, has moved to my side an' now it's her turn to lend me support as she fixes the stranger with a curious stare.

"Why do you keep calling him Jimmy? His name's Logan."

The stranger's dark eyes slide to her arm restin' comfortably around my waist an' I am seized with an inexplicable desire to protect. The guy is dangerous – I don't need my senses to know that – an' somethin' about Jubilee has obviously sparked his interest. The growl that starts way down in my chest an' rapidly gains volume to set my whole body vibratin' with the power of it prompts the stranger to smile coldly an' Jubilee to step away from me with a startled gasp. I regret scarin' the kid, but somethin' about the stranger's calculatin' attitude sets me on edge an' has my hackles risin'.

Without showin' the slightest bit o' interest in my obvious efforts to provoke, his focus switches to Jubilee. "Are you his mate?" he asks, casually, pointin' first to her an' then to me.

The unexpected question cuts me off mid-growl an' Jubilee's brow furrows in confusion. "What? No! I …….. eww!"

"I didn't think so. I can't smell him on you – not in that sense, anyway." He takes a long slow sniff of the air. "Still a virgin too. No wonder you had Bonebreaker so turned on."

Jubilee makes a choked sound an' I reach out to pull her to my side as the glaringly obvious suddenly hits me between the eyes. "You're feral," I accuse.

The stranger laughs, clickin' his fingers in the air. "Bingo! Did you work that out all by yourself, Jimmy?" He holds up his hand for me to see an' his finger nails suddenly lengthen into wicked lookin' talons. They're formidable weapons. A sudden flash o' those talons whippin' across my face – buryin' themselves into my shoulder – forces a gasp o' surprise from my lips, but the image is gone before I can focus on it. If he notices, the stranger gives no sign, merely lowerin' his hand an' lettin' the talons retract. I follow the movement with my eyes until he snorts an' draws my gaze back up to his face. "Y'know, Wade told me you were a shadow of the man you once were, but I didn't believe him. I thought there'd be something left of you in there, but it's gone, hasn't it, Jimmy? Really gone. Such a shame. We made a helluva team, you an' me."

"Wolvie, what's going on?" Jubilee shifts uneasily against me an' the feral once again transfers his attention back to her.

"Your team-mate can't remember jackshit about his life, girlie," he spits, ruthlessly. "That's what's going on. An' the irony of all is that I hold all of it, right here." He lifts up his hand, palm uppermost. "I could tell him everything he's ever wanted to know – his name, where he comes from – everything! An' all he's gotta do is ask."

He looks back to me, one eyebrow raisin', but I shake my head. Somethin's tellin' me I can't trust this guy. "I won't ask," I growl in return.

The stranger smiles. "Didn't think you would. You always were a stubborn bastard, Jimmy. So what about you, missy?" Jubilee squeaks as once again she becomes the center o' attention. "Wanna know the truth? Tell you what, you tell me your name an' I'll tell you mine."

"Don't," I whisper, but I can see she is intrigued by what the stranger is offerin' her. I wince as she gives her name willingly an' the feral smiles. "Well, hello there, Jubilee. It's nice to meet you. My name is Victor Creed."

……_.. A gunshot …….. a body lyin' in a pool o' blood …….. a flash o' bone-white claw …….._

The images are quick an' fleetin' but they leave me reelin' in their wake. Victor tosses me a knowin' glance, speakin' to Jubilee but keepin' his attention focused on me. "I was born in the late 1800's, in Alberta, Canada. My father, a feral, had an affair with the wife of his soon to be late employer, one John Howlett. You….," he pokes a finger at me through the bars " …. are supposedly his youngest son. Your name is James Howlett an' you're my little brother. My half brother actually, but I figure that's just being picky."

"Jesus …….." I stagger back in shock, my mind unable to cope with the life-changin' information that's just been revealed so casually. After all these years o' tryin' to piece my life together – all the searchin', the agony an' the heartache – an' all it took was one guy from my past to unlock it all.

Victor leans casually against the cell door, watchin' me struggle with the realisation that he holds the key to restorin' my memories in the palm o' his hands. "I gotta go now. Duty calls an' all that. But that's just a taster o' what I could tell you, Jimmy. If you wanna know more, you know what you have to do." He pushes away from the door, blowin' a kiss to Jubilee. "Bye, sweetie."

"Wait." I thrust out a hand, pleadingly, drawin' him back to the door, where he eyes me, cautiously. "Just one thing, Victor. Were we …….. were we close?"

Victor draws his lips back in a snarl. "Hardly." He turns to walk away. "I was your worst enemy."

**oooOOOooo**

After Victor leaves, I become withdrawn, hunchin' into a corner to mull over the information he has given me. My mind refuses to assimilate the fact that I am over one hundred years old – all I can think about is the possibility that I could live for at least another five hundred years before I even start to show any signs o' aging. An' then I wonder about Marie an' what this could mean for our relationship an' once I start down that road I realise there is no guarantee I'll ever even see her again. The original Weapon X project held me for months the last time they got their hooks into me – as near as I've been able to ascertain, I only managed to escape because someone got careless. I don't think they'll be so accomodatin' a second time. So, unless a miracle happens an' the X-Men find us, me an' Jubilee are pretty much screwed. I don't know what evidence they planted in the truck to make 'em think we're dead, but out only hope is for 'em to see through it an' come after us – an' quick before whatever they're gonna do to re-condition me becomes irreversible. O' course, no amount o' re-conditionin' will ever be able to bury my desire to be free. It was this desire that saved me the last time an' I know that whatever they do to me, I'll never stop lookin' for the way out – for a way to escape my oppressors.

Frost makes an appearance with some food on a tray a couple o' hours later – nothin' fancy, jus' some potatoes an' some stringy meat – but it's hours since I ate an' I attack the food with a gusto that surprises me. Jubilee picks at her potatoes for a while an' then shoves her plate towards me to finish off. I leave the potatoes but take the meat.

Frost also leaves my jacket an' shirt, which were presumably removed when they inserted this metal doo-hickey into my neck. I still don't know what it's for – Roberts called it a 'port' – but whatever it is I figure it's nothin' good. Jubilee says it looks as though somethin' plugs into it an' if that ain't the stuff o' nightmares, I don't know what is. It suggests that my head is about to be messed with again, an' that sets the beast howlin' in its cage. I'm tempted to let it free the next time Roberts an' his cronies come waltzin' into the cell an' see how they like that – claws or no claws, the beast is a dirty fighter when he's pissed an' he'll give 'em a run for their money before they can take him down. Unfortunately, the one thing stoppin' me from actually doin' this is the beast's total inability to tell friend from foe. When I go feral, everyone is a target – Jubilee wouldn't stand a chance against me without her powers. So if I let the beast free, I gotta make sure she's not in the firin' line first. Either that, or let him free only when it's a no-win situation. If Jubilee's gonna die, I'd rather it be at _my_ hands, not theirs.

At least, _my_ way will be quick.

My jacket has been divested of everything that could be remotely useful – my cell phone, my bike keys, even my cigars an' matches have gone. But deep in one o' the outer pockets, I find a screwed up slip o' paper with Sheryl's phone number written on it in neat figuring. I stare at it for a moment, then return it to the pocket, treasurin' the little piece o' freedom.

I shrug into my shirt after eating an' return to my corner. Jubilee makes a half-hearted attempt to draw me into conversation, but my mind is occupied elsewhere an' after receivin' only grunts for her efforts, she gets the hint an' lays down on the cot, where she falls into a fitful doze. I feel bad for cold-shoulderin' the kid, but I got a lot to think about – not the least of which is whether to ask Victor for more information about my past or not. He says he's my enemy – was this always the case or did somethin' happen in our past to set brother against brother? Do I even wanna know? I'm not entirely sure I trust him – he's a mutant an' a feral, yet he walks around the place freely. Is he in league with our captors? Is he the reason I'm here?

So many fuckin' questions. Not enough answers.

I'm not surprised when I begin to feel a headache buildin' at the back o' my skull, but whether this is because o' all the soul searchin' or the effects o' the suppressant, I ain't sure. I suspect the latter though, on account o' me not bein' prone to headaches. Healin' factor an' all that, y'know.

When the lights go out in our cell, I figure it's our captors' not so subtle way o' tellin' us to get some sleep. Jubilee rouses as I roll up my jacket an' place it on the floor next to the cot, askin' me if I want the bed. Such a lady. An' ever the gentleman, I refuse. I can protect her better if I sleep on the floor anyway. They'll have to step on me to get to her – providin' I don't hear 'em comin' into the cell in the first place, o' course – an' then they'll have three hundred pounds o' angry Wolverine to deal with.

The light is still on in the hallway, providin' just enough illumination to cast the cell in a soft glow. I lay on my back for a time, starin' at the red light on the camera, wonderin' if they're watchin' us right now. They'd be lousy guards if they weren't. Bad things always happen at night.

I actually figure on stayin' awake all night an' watchin' over Jubilee, but the suppressant I've been breathin' for hours has a calmin' effect an' I finally fall into a light doze ……..

…….. Paving the way for the serum I was injected with earlier to make its presence known ………

I awake with a jolt, feelin' disoriented an' dizzy an' knowin' instantly that somethin' is wrong. As I roll onto my side, my stomach cramps painfully an' I groan at the unfamiliar feelin', cuttin' it off quickly with a bite to my lower lip, afraid to wake Jubilee. I can feel a cold sweat breakin' out all over my body, the pricklin' sensation puttin' me in mind of ants crawlin' all over me. I lay still for a moment, willin' the feelin' to pass an' idly wonderin' if the meat I was given was bad or poisoned in any way. Bad meat, maybe, but they'd hardly go to all the trouble o' gettin' their hands on me only to put poison in my food. I'd be a fool to suspect that – an' I ain't no fool. It's gotta be the serum.

An' then I feel an unpleasant burnin' sensation in my throat an' I bolt for the toilet ……..

Jubilee wakes up just as the remains o' my last meal makes a sudden an' rather unexpected reappearance. Rubbin' the sleep from her eyes, she staggers to my side, attracted by my feeble retchin', an' recoilin' in shock at the sight o' me kneelin' in front o' the toilet.

"Geez, Wolvie, are you ……..? Christ, you're sick! I didn't think you got sick."

"I don't," I croak back, shakily. Even with most o' my life a mystery to me, I don't ever remember bein' sick before an' the sensation is not a pleasant one. I groan as another spasm cramps my stomach an' hurl up some half digested meat. "Oh god ……"

Jubilee crouches at my side, placin' her hand on my forehead. Her fingers are cool to my heated skin. "Christ, Wolvie, you're burning up! What's wrong with you?"

"Serum," I reply. My voice is weak an' I am shakin' like a leaf in the wind. As I heave again, Jubilee rubs my back, offerin' comfort in the only way she knows how. I'm actually surprised she's still with me – the firecracker has never struck me as the most sensitive member o' the team – the night she an' Kitty snuck into my room to leave a sandwich lends testament to that.

Maybe our current situation an' her recent brush with rape has forced her to grow up quickly.

Jubilee looks around anxiously as I heave again. "I don't know what to do, Wolvie. Tell me how to help you."

"Jus' leave me here." She's removed her hand from my head an' I slump down until my forehead is restin' against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. "I'll be okay."

"Like hell I will! I'm not leavin' you curled up on the floor in front of the toilet! What kind of a heartless idiot do you take me for?" She stands an' hooks her hands around my arm, forcin' a groan past my lips. "Get up!"

I try to resist, but somehow she forces me to my feet, pausin' only for me to heave into the hand basin on the way up. Jubilee runs the tap, lettin' the water clean out the basin, an' then leaves me to rinse out my mouth while she flushes the toilet. I am left with a strangely metallic taste in my mouth, but I don't know if it's caused by the water or my condition.

"Come on." She drapes my arm across her shoulders an' slips her own arm around my waist, staggerin' a little under my weight as she leads me to the cot. "You do realise that Rogue would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you, don't you? She loves your sorry ass, although how she puts up with all your grumping an' growling is beyond me. You must be something else in the sack, that's all I can say. Now, you just lie there an' I'll see if I can find something to cool your head with."

She eases me down to the cot, but when she tries to cover me with the blanket I push it off. "Hot," I complain.

"But you're shivering," she insists. "Oh god, Wolvie, I don't know how to deal with this. Your skin is burning up, yet you've got the shakes." She's right – I'm shiverin' so hard my teeth are chatterin'. She suddenly jumps up, wavin' her arms in front o' the camera. "Hey! Hey, I need help here! Wolvie's sick!"

"Leave it, Jubilee," I gasp, my voice barely audible.

"But that stuff's killing you!" she protests, droppin' back down to her knees beside the cot. "They have to know."

"They know," I argue, feebly. "They have somethin' planned for me, Fizzbit. I'm no use to 'em dead."

"I'm sure that's a whole heap o' comfort right now." Jubilee looks around frantically, then grabs my jacket, huntin' through the pockets for anythin' useful an' finally tossin' it aside in frustration when she comes up empty. With a grunt she gets to her feet an' stalks into our 'bathroom'. I hear a tap runnin' an' she returns with a wad o' wet folded up toilet paper, which she places on my forehead. It feels blessedly cool to my heated skin.

Jubilee frets a moment with my blanket – she keeps tuckin' it around me an' I keep pushin' it away. "There's nothing in this blasted cell to help us, Wolvie. It's almost as though they want you to suffer, dammit."

I turn my head slowly to fix her with an intense if slightly shaky stare. "That's the whole point, Jubilee. I think that's part o' their plan …….."

**oooOOOooo**

It's at least another four hours before Roberts an' his men make another house call. In the intervening time, I have got progressively worse, to the point where I am now driftin' in an' out o' consciousness. Jubilee has had to help me to our bathroom on three more occasions – the last time I didn't make it an' threw up all over the floor at the foot o' the cot. I felt bad for the kid as she eased me back down to rest, but she cleaned up the mess without complaint, using most o' the toilet paper. She's rapidly changin' my opinion o' her – I used to think she was an annoying nuisance, good for nothin' except bein' a good friend to Marie, but a joker who wouldn't amount to much. Seems I was wrong. I'm not sayin' she's conquered her fears an' come out punchin' – she's still scared an' frankly, so am I – but she's holdin' her own an' I'm proud o' the kid for that.

Frost is the first into the cell. Seems he's their appointed medic – or _my_ medic, at least. Jubilee is sittin' on the edge o' the cot beside me an' she refuses to move as he crouches by her side an' places a hand on my forehead. I'm barely conscious at this point an' I groan weakly as he thumbs back an eyelid to check my responses.

"Are you gonna help him?" Jubilee demands, as Frost rocks back on his haunches an' looks towards the doorway, obviously awaitin' his commandin' officer. "He's never been sick like this before. You've gotta do something."

Frost turns to study her anxious face, his own expression strangely showin' his sadness at havin' to be the bearer o' bad news. "I'm not going to make him better, honey. I can't. I'm sorry."

Jubilee begins to splutter in confusion an' indignation as Roberts an' two guards march into the cell. Frost gets to his feet an' pulls the kid up with him, draggin' her away from the cot an' me. She protests an' tries to fight him, but he's a big guy an' Jubilee barely makes five foot four in her sneakers. He's firm, but surprisingly gentle as he backs against the wall, holdin' Jubilee in place with an arm about her waist as she struggles to get back to me.

The commotion rouses me slightly an' I blink muzzily as Roberts steps up to the cot an' stares down at me. "Status report, Frost."

"Everything progressing according to schedule, Sir. Wolverine's healing factor has shut down and he's in the first stages of adamantium poisoning."

Jubilee gasps at this an' stills, twistin' slightly to stare at Frost in horror. The soldier shrugs in return.

My eyes track Roberts as he leans down to study me closely. "Excellent. Weapon X, do you know what is about to happen to you now?"

I have a pretty good idea, but whatever it is I ain't gonna meet it lyin' on this cot like an invalid. I groan an' roll to my side, intendin' to get to my feet an' face my fate like a man, but the action brings on another stomach cramp an' Roberts is too slow to react as I hurl all over his highly polished combat boots.

"Animal!" As I flop back, weakly, Roberts grabs the pulse rifle from one of his guards an' levels it at me, aiming right between the eyes. Bracin' myself for the pain that I know is about to be unleashed on my vulnerable body, I hear Jubilee scream in horror as I stare right back into Roberts steely eyes, an' I know I ain't gonna give him the satisfaction o' dying.

I'll survive this if it kills me ……..

An' then Frost is suddenly between me an' the rifle, fingers tentatively nudgin' the business end in another direction. "No, Sir, you can't. With his healing factor down, he'll never survive the shock. Please, Sir. He's not in control of his actions right now."

A silent battle o' wills ensues as Jubilee takes advantage o' the distraction to return to my side once more. She silently takes my cuffed an' clammy hand in hers an' grips my fingers tightly, her eyes leavin' mine only to glance anxiously up at the tableau takin' place before us. Roberts obviously aches to punish me for the affront, but common sense finally prevails – like I said before, I'm no good to him dead – an' he thrusts the rifle roughly back into the hands of its owner.

"Fine. I will refrain from punishing the beast this time, Frost, but only because he is too valuable to risk killing him at this stage. But if you ever confront me in front of my men again, or if your pet ever humiliates me, I promise you I will personally have you whipped and give you to Victor for his sport. Do you understand me?"

"Copy that, Sir."

So, _'pet', _huh? Guess that makes Frost my handler.

Roberts elbows the man aside an' steps closer, his face red with barely restrained anger. I figure it's crunch time an' I feel Jubilee's hand tighten on mine.

"You have been injected with a carbonadium serum, Weapon X. Liquid metal." _Oh Christ, no wonder I feel so sick. _"By now, it will have spread throughout your system, completely shutting down your healing factor. The effects you are feeling now are due to adamantium poisoning. Your own skeleton is killing you."

"I know ……" I manage to grunt out. Yeah, I've felt this before. On occasion, some nut or other has managed to negate the healin' factor an' I've experienced some discomfort until said nut has been dealt with, but it's never got this far before. The metal coverin' my bones constantly leaks poisons into my system which my healin' factor normally deals with on a daily basis. With it shut down, I know the effects are only gonna get worse.

Until I die.

An' with the healin' factor down, there'll be no comin' back this time.

"Without an antidote, Weapon X, you _will_ die." Roberts confirms my fears with a sneer.

"Yeah, an' I suppose you just happen to have the antidote handy, don't ya?" Jubilee tosses Roberts a hate-filled glare. "You people disgust me."

"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what we _do_ have." Roberts chooses to ignore the kid's insult an' snaps his fingers. Another guard enters, carryin' a metal case, which he hands to Frost. He opens it an' removes another hypospray.

"This is amalgium-H, Weapon X." Roberts indicates the hypo with a mirthless smile. "It functions by fusing with the c-serum and thereby rendering it inert, thus allowing your healing factor to function. It also inhibits your free will, thus making you compliant and easier to control. However, its effects only last for eight hours, after which time the c-serum will once again take over your system and shut down your healing factor. If you have not received a further dose of the aH-serum before twelve hours have elapsed, you will have reached early stages of adamantium poisoning, as you are now. Twenty four hours later, you will be comatose. After forty-eight hours have elapsed, you will be dead."

Jubilee is aghast. "You can't inject him with that! It's …….. it's inhuman!"

Roberts cocks his head. "Your point being?" He rocks back slightly, foldin' his arms. "Mutants are not human, my dear. Weapon X even less so. He's an animal, nothing more and, as such, ours to use the same way I would harness a horse or train a dog to sniff out explosives. So, let me ask you this. Would you rather we leave him to die?"

"No, but …….."

"Weapon X still has a choice, my dear. Once the aH-serum has been administered and he has been sent out on his first mission, he can chose not to come back to us and die, presumably under a hedge somewhere, like the animal he is. However, fortune has smiled on us and sent us you – an unexpected bonus. So I think he _will_ come back to us, time after time. He will allow us to use him again and again, because he knows I will give you to Bonebreaker if he does not."

Jubilee gasps and from somewhere deep inside I manage to summon the strength to raise myself up to one elbow. "Go ahead," I growl. "Use your god-damn serum. Send me out on yer missions. But I promise ya this, Roberts. One day, ya'll drop yer guard or the serum will fail. An' I'll be waitin'. Either way, I'll be free. An' I'll hunt ya down like the bastard ya are an' I'll take yer god-damn head off. You an' anyone else who stands in my way."

"Fair enough." Roberts gestures an' Frost steps forward, pressin' the hypo to my neck. His eyes are almost apologetic as he sends the contents coursin' into my veins an' I file this information away for future reference. Of all the guards, he seems the most sympathetic an' any ally in this place, even one o' the enemy, is better than no ally at all.

He steps back as I sink back down to the cot with a weary sigh. Jubilee reaches out to touch my face gently, an' I smile back at her in encouragement. I _will_ live, because I'm gonna find a way to get us both outta here. Whatever it takes – whatever I have to do – I'll do it. We're gonna survive.

An' for that to happen, Logan will have to die. I need to be stronger now, for both of us. I need to call on those reserves hidden deep within me – I need to release the beast.

Logan is dead.

Weapon X lives again ……..

**NEXT: **We check in on Rogue as a visit to the Med-lab is in order!


	19. Three Days

Hey everyone! First of all, so sorry for leaving you so long without an update. My manager has been out of store a lot lately, running a disciplinery in another store, and I've been doing a lot of extra hours to cover for her. This had the unfortunate effect of making me feel very tired and I had a mild case of writer's block! Then, just when I'd managed to get myself back on track, on Friday evening I was accidentally scratched by the cat! This might not seem earth shattering at first glance, but I am highly allergic to any form of insect bite or animal scratch - even injections. I had a violent allergic reaction and my arm swelled up to twice its size! Erk! The medication I was given to combat this had the unfortunate side effect of zoning me out competely! Honestly, I'm surprised I wasn't seeing blue unicorns bounding around the place! Anyway, all is fine now and my writing is now back on track, so hopefully my next update shouldn't take so long!

Secondly, this story has now hit 200 reviews and I must thank you all profusely for your continued interest and for taking the time to leave said reviews! Take a bow, everyone, you deserve it!

And to celebrate, here are the reviews for the last chapter! Thanks to **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Masanya, Devil Rebel, pinkdrama - **(congratulations on leaving the 200th review!) - **pepper-maroon, desy, Wolf Eos, Mrstrentreznor, xmngrl, Snow leopard freak, immiD, alexmonalisa, Laudine, MidLifeCrisis, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Sniktchicka **and **Ren-stranger! **I'm now gunning for the big 300! With your help, I'm sure I'll get there!

And now it's time to check in with Rogue! Onward ......!

**ooXoo**

**19. Three Days**

**Rogue:**

Three days.

It's been three days since my lover and best friend were ambushed on their way to the auto-shop. Three agonising days since the X-Men found Wolverine's remains in the wreckage of their still burning truck and told me they were dead.

I died myself that day.

Not physically, of course. No, this is something far worse – a numbness of mind and spirit that goes so deep I can't feel myself anymore. I thought the pain was bad the day Logan was shot and pronounced dead by Jean on our own front porch, but this …….. this is agony of the cruellest kind. Because I can't help but dwell on what Logan must have gone through in his final moments. With his healing factor constantly trying to repair his damaged flesh even as he burned, he must have suffered untold agony before he finally died. I can only hope he was unconscious before the final rocket hit the truck, because I wouldn't wish that kind of death on my worst enemy.

At least the end would have been mercifully quick for Jubilee.

My inner Logan knows something is wrong – he's retreated to a far corner of my mind, but I can sense his misery. His incessant whimpers are enough to break my heart. He seems to know that part of himself is gone – is this because he was still connected to Logan in some way? Or is he simply reacting to my own grief?

I guess now I'll never know.

The last three days have passed by in a daze – a kind of grief induced stupor. I've spent the majority of this time locked away in my room, shunning company and the sympathy of my team-mates. Nothing they could say would ever ease my pain and I don't want to see my own agony reflected in their eyes. The whole school is in mourning following the attack and everyone is trying to come to terms with their loss in their own way. Both the student body and the X-Men have been rocked by the carnage that has been visited on their number. Bad enough to lose a student, but to also lose a member of the elite team – a man whom everyone considered nigh on indestructible – is a point that has reminded everyone painfully of their own mortality. We won't recover from this for a very long time.

If ever.

Jean has called by to try and talk to me a couple of times – I pretended not to hear her knock and reinforced my shields so that it would seem as though I was asleep. Once she brought the Professor with her to try and coax me out, but I wouldn't open the door. This may seem petty to some, but I can't help blaming them both for Logan's death. They knew there were people out there who wanted him dead for some reason, yet they stood by and did nothing. Oh, I know the Professor said that he was investigating the situation, but why couldn't he come up with anything? He's the strongest telepath on the planet, for god's sake! I refuse to believe that Logan's murderers were so well shielded that he couldn't pick up their intent with Cerebro. And Jean? Well, don't get me started on Jean! We all know how she has lusted to get Logan's pants off, despite being engaged to Scott. Oh, I know she acts like she doesn't really want him and gets all prissy when he flirts with her, but I've seen the glances she gives him when she thinks no one's looking. Could she really have kept silent about the attack because she figured that if _she_ couldn't have him, no one else could? Is she really that devious?

All I know is that both the Professor and Jean failed to protect their own, and Logan and Jubilee paid the price.

A price I would have gladly paid if it meant I could save them both.

And the Professor wants me to come out of my room and discuss my feelings with him?

Better that I don't.

Because I really don't think he wants to know how I feel right now. How I'm considering leaving the team because my life doesn't reside here any more ………

I roll over onto my side to face the window, squinting against the bright sunlight which is streaming through the crack in the curtains to fall coincidentally right across the patch of bed I am curled up on. It seems wrong that the sun should be shining – inside my heart it is raining, and it will forever rain as long as I am alone. But life goes on and the sun will continue to shine, defying the darkness in my heart.

My clothes are rumpled – I haven't changed in three days, having eaten and slept in pretty much the same position since I locked myself away. Barring the occasional trip to the toilet, I've barely moved at all. I know I look a sight, but I really couldn't care less. Why should I bother? I've no one to live for anymore.

My only visitor – the only one I'll allow to enter my Fortress of Despair anyway – has been Kitty. She's the only one who knows what I'm going through, I think. She lost a good friend herself that day – she and Jubilee were practically inseparable and, while Jubes was a good friend to all at the mansion, it's Kitty who misses her the most. They were partners in crime, the culprits of at least ninety per cent of all the pranks carried out on fellow students and hapless teachers. And, while they never dared to carry out any pranks on Logan, being scared of retribution for their crimes, I know they both respected him a great deal. It was only towards the end, after he and I got together, that Jubilee dared to steal his fighting jacket and …….. customise it. And I know that she dared do that only because she had seen him change over the last few weeks – become more relaxed and easy with the crowd. Vandalising his jacket was her way of welcoming him to the gang. I know she never said anything but, in her own way, she thought a lot of Logan and was pleased we had finally got together. She said I was good for him. That we made a cute couple.

She wished us well and hoped we'd have lots of growly feral kids with crazy hair.

Wherever Jubilee is now, I hope Logan's still looking out for her ……..

I looked for Logan's fighting jacket after the attack, but I never found it. I know he left it in my room, but I figure he must have taken it away to get it cleaned. Funny how I don't remember ……..

My stomach gurgles loudly and I curl in on myself, groaning at the queasy feeling in my gut. God, wouldn't it be just typical to get food poisoning now of all times, right when I want to have nothing to do with Jean or the Med-lab for reasons all too obvious. Although how I've managed to get food poisoning when I've hardly eaten in three days is completely beyond me. The congealed remains of last night's dinner is still sitting on the computer desk where Kitty left it – the beef casserole just didn't tempt me at all. Neither did the banana split she prepared herself, knowing it's a particular favourite of mine. The ice cream has long since melted and resembles something out of an alien horror movie. The sheer thought of it turns my stomach. I must remember to ask Kitty to take it away when she comes again.

As if thinking of my friend conjures her out of the very air, there's a soft tap at my door and I know it's Kitty. My door isn't locked at the moment and, when I bid her enter, she moves quickly into my room and closes the door behind her. A greasy smell seems to enter with her, which immediately makes my stomach lurch, painfully.

"Rogue? You okay? I've brought you some breakfast." She advances towards the bed and I groan as the smell of bacon wafts over me. And is that fried egg? _Oh god …….._

"Take it away." I try to snuggle deeper into the covers, but the aroma follows and I grit my teeth against the overwhelming urge to vomit. A wave of nausea washes over me, my stomach spasms painfully and I am suddenly up and bolting for the bathroom, only just making it in time to decorate the pristine white porcelain with the remains of my last woefully inadequate meal.

"Rogue?" I hear my breakfast plate clunk down onto what I assume is my bedside table and then Kitty is at my side, gasping in horror at the sight of me retching feebly into the toilet. "Oh god, Rogue, what's wrong?"

"My stomach's upset," I groan, as Kitty rips off a wad of toilet paper and hands it to me before kneeling down beside me and holding my tangled hair back from my face. "Ah think ah've got food poisoning."

"That's not good." The concern in Kitty's voice is painfully evident. "You've hardly eaten for three days. If you've got food poisoning you could dehydrate and that would be really bad."

"What, worse than this?" I ask weakly, groaning into the toilet bowl. I feel dreadful, as if finally standing up has opened the floodgates and allowed all the pain I've been bottling up to flow through.

Kitty nods, decisively. "Yes. Much worse. I should get you to the Med-lab ……"

"No!" I grab Kitty's hand, staring at her in horror. "Ah can't! That …….. that 'thing' is down there …….."

Kitty visibly winces, instantly knowing what I'm referring to, but she pats my hand comfortingly. "No, it isn't, Rogue. Henry's moved it into his private lab. He's going to test it for …….." She breaks off as she suddenly realises what she was about to say and to whom. "Oh! I'm sorry, Rogue."

"Don't be," I reply, stoically. That isn't Logan down there. It's just metal. Logan's gone ……..

Tears spring, unbidden, to my eyes and Kitty draws me into a hug. Her own voice grows thick with unshed tears as she seeks to comfort me. "It's okay, Rogue. Let it all out if it'll help. I won't leave you."

Unfortunately, the tender moment is broken by me having to retch into the toilet once more and Kitty gets to her feet once I'm done, dragging me up with her.

"You're going to the Med-lab, Rogue. Now!" There's no room for argument in her tone and she actually manages to force me out into the bedroom before I balk at a sudden thought.

"But Jean ……." I gasp out.

Kitty, bless her, understands instantly. "Jean's in the War Room with the Professor and Scott. They've been there almost 24/7, trying to find leads to Logan and Jubilee's killers."

_Oh. _The realisation almost makes me feel guilty for the thoughts I entertained earlier, but then I argue that if they'd been so diligent in the days following the first attack my lover and best friend would probably still be alive today.

Kitty ploughs on, oblivious to my momentary lapse. "Henry's on Med-lab duty this morning. He'll look after you."

This, more than anything, convinces me to accompany my friend as she leads me across the room and out into the hallway. If I truly have food poisoning, I'd be a fool to ignore the warning signs and allow myself to get worse. And if I really want to leave the team, I can do so once I'm better.

And so, resigning myself into the hands of my team-mate, I allow her to lead me to the Med-lab ……..

**oooOOOooo**

**Wolverine:**

Three days.

It's been three days since me an' Jubilee were brought to this hellhole, yet I've already had to teach our guards a valuable lesson. Two broken arms, some smashed teeth an' a guard in hospital after I bit his ear off has taught our captors that the Wolverine don't make a good houseguest when he's pissed.

They should never have tried to take the cub away from me.

The night followin' my first dose o' aH-serum, our captors upped the level o' the suppressant bein' pumped into our cell. Once again, I was sleepin' on the floor at the side of our cot but, with me out for the count, it was easy for 'em to steal in an' take her away. I awoke to an empty cell an' the meanest temper since Scooter accidentally kneed me in the balls durin' a trainin' session. When a guard came to leave food, I played possum, allowin' him to draw near before surgin' to my feet an' takin' him down with a solid punch to the jaw. I may not be able to employ my claws, but the cuffs make effective weapons in their own right and, with the weight o' my metal skeleton behind my fist, it only takes one well-placed punch to lay a guy out for the count.

I was high-tailin' it for the cell door before he'd even hit the floor ……..

O' course, like the cowardly jackals they are, the guards always hunt in packs an', before I knew it, I was elbow deep in army types, fists flyin' an' all manner o' insults bein' traded left, right an' center. I managed to get the drop on several of 'em – hence the aforementioned injuries – until some bright spark remembered that his pulse rifle was there for a reason an' decided to use it.

It took four blasts to bring me to my knees.

The last one finished me off for several hours.

When I awoke for the second time that day – head throbbin' in glorious technicolour pain - Jubilee was back in my cell. It turned out that we had Frost to thank for the kindness, but the deal comes with a price. Jubilee is allowed to remain with me where I can keep her safe, but I must be submissive to my captors' wishes. The very thought brings bile to my throat – since the aH-serum was first administered, I've allowed myself to remain in a near feral state knowin' that I'm that much harder to control an' drug when the beast is to the fore. With the beast in control I am stronger an' craftier – better equipped to protect both the cub an' the man within. But my feral nature abhors bein' dominated – as an Alpha my instinct is to subject all other males around me to _my_ will, not the other way around. Bein' confined an' treated like a pet is drivin' my animal side crazy, but I must endure it.

For both our sakes.

Puttin' a man in hospital an' injurin' several others didn't go down well with Roberts. He made sure I was punished for my escape attempt and withheld my next dose o' the aH-serum. A few hours down the line, I was once again struck by the sickness although this time, with nothin' in my belly, it involved mostly dry heavin'. Jubilee sat with me next to the toilet, tryin' to hold back tears as I reached so deep within myself that it felt as though I was tryin' to introduce my balls to the toilet bowl by way o' my mouth. By the time I collapsed onto the cot I was exhausted an' my stomach muscles ached from the constant spasms. Unconsciousness seemed like a blessed relief.

Roberts let the poisoning run its course until I dropped into a coma, finally releasin' me from the fever that now wracked my body. At some point after this, Roberts finally allowed the aH-serum to be administered an' I awoke several hours later with a fully restored healin' factor to find Jubilee perched on the end o' the cot, cryin' on Frost's shoulder. As he became aware o' the low growl rumblin' in my throat, he gently pushed her back, stood slowly so as not to alarm me an' walked to the door, pausin' on the way to reach down an' pat my shoulder. I resisted the urge to snap at his hand, knowin' that it wouldn't be wise to antagonise the only friend we have in his god-forsaken place. But I couldn't resist lettin' the growl intensify as he slipped quickly through the cell door an' locked it behind him, jus' to warn him off touchin' the cub again.

The cub. Strange how my feral side views her that way. At sixteen years old an' unmated, she would be more appropriately termed a kitling. But I can't help rememberin' the world weary fourteen year old first introduced to the team three years ago. Orphaned several years previously, she had been moved from one foster home to another, never really findin' a place to fit in, until she took matters into her own hands an' decided to live on the streets. Three o' the female team members found her runnin' wild in an LA shoppin' mall a few months later, makin' a livin' by entertainin' shoppers with her fireworks. It was probably only the promise o' free food an' lodgin' that prompted her to return to the mansion an' give up a life that would most likely have led to prostitution, drugs an' worse. Once settled, she set about makin' life for the residents an' staff as interestin' as possible. She was loud, prone to pranks, an' had the worse dress sense o' anyone of her age I have ever seen. But she was also fiercely loyal to her friends an' quickly became best friends to Rogue, becoming only the second person – beside myself – who wasn't constantly freaked out by my lover's, as then, lethal skin. An' it's for this reason alone that I will defend an' protect the girl with every iota o' my strength. To the death, if need be.

She's watchin' me now, eyes followin' my movements as I prowl the confines of our cell. I hate bein' caged – I pace the walls the way a tiger paces the bars of his enclosure at the zoo. It's called Zoo Syndrome – a kind of brain damage. Take the tiger from its enclosure an' put it in a larger one, an' it will continue to pace out the same length of space as it had before. The man that I am knows what I'm doing an' tries to stop it, but as the beast I am too far gone to listen. I'm filled with nervous energy which I need to expend any way I can. I can't stand still.

Jubilee has drawn her feet up onto the bed – her arms are wrapped around her legs an' her chin is restin' on her knees as she tracks my movements. Her eyes are still puffy an' red from all the cryin' she did earlier - convinced she was the one at fault for my punishment, she was all but inconsolable when I finally regained consciousness. It took me a while to reassure her that Roberts would have withheld the aH-serum anyway, with or without her involvement. Jubilee was simply the tool he used to show his mastery of me. A man like Roberts likes the feel of his own self-importance.

"You're really making me feel dizzy, y'know?" Jubilee places one foot on the floor an' leans back against the wall, raisin' an eyebrow. I favour her with a sideways glance but continue pacin' without breakin' stride. As strange as it may seem, I actually find her presence comfortin'. Females always seem to have that effect on me. I can be so deep into a berserker rage that I've lost all sense o' self, yet all it takes is for a single female to enter the fray an' I'll pop right outta it as pretty as you please.

Darndest thing, ain't it?

So, here I am, with a sixteen year old minor sharin' a cell barely big enough for one an' if that wouldn't set child services screamin' for the hills I don't know what else would. O' course, if they were here, I'd be the least o' their worries, what with Roberts an' his rapin' cronies all provin' a far greater danger to the girl than I ever could. Here, I can keep her safe – out there, anything could happen.

Jubilee slides down the wall to lay her head on the tatty pillow, tuckin' her legs up. Her scent shifts abruptly, bringin' to my nose the unmistakable tang o' salty tears an' I guess she's gearin' up for another round o' cryin'. _Christ!_ I've had enough o' the cub's tears in the past few hours to last me a lifetime. I never woulda figured the kid for a bawler – I thought she had more backbone than this. If we're gonna get outta this hellhole alive, she's gonna haveta liven up an' stay sharp. Wallowin' in self pity will only dull her sense o' self preservation an' get her killed.

I start towards the cot with the intention o' knockin' some sense into the kid with a few well chosen words, but a sound pulls me up short. Head raised, I turn towards the door, fully alert as my suppressant dulled senses strain to catch a scent or another sound. Jubilee is not slow to notice my stance an' she sits up on the cot, her face turned anxiously in my direction.

"Wolvie? What is it? Is someone coming?"

"Shh!" I hiss sharply an' move towards the door, peerin' through the bars to the hallway beyond. Durin' my brief break for freedom, I discovered that our cell is not alone – there are others, at least eight, the doors all set slightly off-center to each other so that the occupants of one cell can't look directly across the hallway into another. Whether they are occupied or not is anyone's guess – with my senses so off kilter I'm not pickin' up any scents, but at least it proves one thing; Roberts an' his men are perfectly willin' an' fully prepared to capture other mutants in order to achieve their aims.

The cub begins to inch off the cot an' I hold out a cuffed hand to motion her back. Someone _is_ comin' – I can hear the sound o' scufflin' feet quite plainly now an' a moment later Jubilee hears it too – she slides off the cot an' places her back to the wall, eyes focused on the bars of our cell, warily. Once again, her scent shifts. She's scared, but she's determined not to let the bastards get the drop on her again. _Good. _It finally looks as though all the defence trainin' I hammered into the students is startin' to kick in. I was beginnin' to think I'd wasted my time.

A couple o' guards come into view down the hallway. One of 'em strides forward an' rakes the barrel o' his rifle across the bars, makin' me pull back my hand sharply before he catches my fingers. The guard – Crowe, I think – laughs cruelly at my expense an' I pull my lips back into a rabid snarl, actually havin' the satisfaction o' seein' his face pale before he remembers that I am safely locked away. To cover his embarrassment, he levels his pulse rifle at me, his finger tightenin' on the trigger.

"Whassamatta, Wolverine? You want some more o' this? You wanna fry like a crispy critter?"

The cub gasps, knowin' Crowe is perfectly willin' to carry out his threat, but like the stubborn bastard that I am, I refuse to back off. My eyes lock onto his and the low growl I allow to rumble forth is nothin' short of a challenge. I'm defyin' Crowe to shoot me in cold blood an' he knows it.

A hand suddenly alights on the guard's shoulder an' he looks away, breakin' the stalemate. Another guard moves into view – Jenson – usherin' Crowe along. "Come on, Crowe, move it. Quit antagonising the Wolverine an' shift outta the way."

Crowe does so with obvious reluctance, flashin' me a look o' pure hatred before saunterin' off down the hallway, feignin' disinterest. I inhale deeply, markin' his scent. He's trouble that one – if he comes prowlin' around I wanna be forewarned.

Another group of guards hove into view. Most are unknown to me, although I recognise one or two from our fracas the other day. However, it's not the guards that hold my interest, but the semi-conscious figure they are draggin' between them. Young, in his early twenties maybe, with a shock o' blonde hair, he looks as though he's just gone ten rounds with the Hulk. A livid black eye mars his pretty features an' blood is oozin' from a split lip. An' judgin' by his laboured breathin', he's got a couple o' busted ribs too. There's nothin' to indicate whether his injuries were caused by our guards or not, but they're certainly not bein' gentle as they drag him along, his feet trippin' on the smooth tiled floor.

As they pass our cell, his eyes roll painfully towards mine, then drop to the floor in absolute defeat. Actin' out o' pure instinct, I inhale deeply, taggin' his scent an' almost chokin' as it catches at the back o' my throat, the rush o' familiarity takin' me unawares. _I know that scent! I'm sure of it! _But it seems …….. off …….. somehow. As though …….. altered.

By the time I have recovered from my surprise, the guards have dragged the kid into a cell across the hallway. I hear the heavy thud of his body hittin' the floor. Disgusted, I turn away from the bars, ignorin' the jeers of the guards as they lock his cell an' retrace their steps, pausin' only to throw some half-hearted insults through the bars of our cell. The cub's eyes meet mine as I stalk to the far wall an' hunker down against it, tryin' to recall the boy's scent an' figure out why it feels so damn familiar to me.

"Wolvie?" the girl asks, quietly. "What was all that about?"

I snort through my nose, annoyed with my inability to pin down his scent.

"We got company," I reply, simply.

**NEXT: **Who is the newcomer and why is he so familiar to Wolverine? Sabretooth drops hints!


	20. In the Kingdom of the Blind

Hey, everyone. Welcome to another chapter!

Once again, many thanks to all who took time to review the last chapter! Major kudos, as always, to **moviemom44, Comic-cake, desy, alexmonalisa, Mrstrentreznor, Laudine, Masanya, pepper-maroon, notashamedtobesoilyfan **and **pinkdrama! **I'd also like to use this opportunity to thank everyone who left a review for my latest one-shot, **The Feral in his Eyes! **You know who you are, and I'm extremely grateful for your continued interest!

And now, onwards - the story awaits .......!

**ooXoo**

**20. In the Kingdom of the Blind ….**

"On your feet, Wolverine, and up against the wall. Nice and slow now."

I huff impatiently an' roll over onto my stomach to face the guard who has appeared at the door to our cell, blinkin' feigned sleep from my eyes. I heard him an' his buddies approachin' the moment they entered the hallway an' was instantly on the alert, but I don't want _him_ to know that. Maybe if they think they've got the drop on us I can bust a few heads an' make a break for freedom.

_Yeah, an' maybe I'll grow wings an' fly outta here ……._

I force a yawn an' pull back to my haunches, restin' a hand casually on the edge o' the cot. There's nothin' casual about it – it's there to give me leverage should I need to launch myself forward. "What's this all about, Jenson?" I growl.

Jenson's eyes narrow, warningly. "I'm not here to answer your questions, Wolverine. Now move! You know the drill. Or do you want another dose o' this?" He waggles his pulse rifle menacingly.

My eyes flick to the lethal weapon an' I move back slightly. Can't say as I like the idea o' that. Five shots in less than four days have taught me that the rifles deal out one shitload o' pain. O' course, my fists an' teeth can inflict their fair share o' hurtin' too. Guess that makes us even.

Jubilee snorts an' awakens as Jenson opens the cell door, instantly takin' in my coiled stance an' realisin' something's going down. Her eyes search out mine an' with the barest nod o' my head, I indicate that she should stay back an' keep out o' this. She sits up, puttin' her feet on the floor an' yawnin' widely. She looks harmless an' sleepy, but I can sense she's tensed an' ready for action.

Her movement draws Jenson's attention as he steps into the cell's doorway an' he waggles his rifle at her. "You too, missy. Up against the wall. Easy now."

His eyes move back to me as I growl warningly, angered by the fact that he's had the audacity to threaten the cub. The gun barrel instantly swings back to cover me as I rise to a crouch, an' my eyes narrow as they focus on the finger tightenin' on the trigger.

I tense to spring ……..

"The hell is going on here, Jenson?"

Frost steps into the cell, flanked by two more guards. _Shit!_ My 'handler' rarely carries a rifle, but I ain't gonna attack whilst he's here. Sure he's the enemy, but he's not like the rest o' the guards – there's a manner to him that makes me hesitate to cause him harm. Call it animal instinct, if you will, but I ain't about to ignore it.

Still maintainin' the growl just to let him know I'm in no mood to be messed with, I watch as Frost places a hand on Jenson's gun barrel an' pushes it aside to point harmlessly at the wall. "I asked you a question, Jenson. What the hell were you trying to do?"

Jenson tosses me a glare before drawin' himself up an' facin' the newcomer. "You ain't my superior, Frost. I don't have to answer to you."

"I may not be your superior in the normal scheme of things, but where Wolverine is concerned, there's God and then there's me. Unless Roberts is present, which he's not. Do you understand me, Jenson? Or do you want me to report to Roberts that you were trying to fry his weapon?"

Jenson's face darkens. "No. I don't."

"Then I ask again; what were you trying to do?"

The guard seems reluctant to answer an' there's a stubborn set to his eyes as he faces the handler. "He's an animal. He needs to know who's boss."

"And I suppose you decided to take matters into your own hands and teach him that lesson yourself?" Frost glances quickly at me an' Jubilee – the cub has moved to my side an' is restin' a restrainin' hand on my shoulder. My growl has reached such an intensity that I figure she can feel the vibrations of it along the length of her arm. "It won't do, Jenson. I told you to wait just inside the cell and secure the exit – nothing more. Dammit, man, what if he'd jumped you?"

"I've got my rifle," retorts Jenson, smugly.

"And a fat lot of good a rifle did Lewis when Wolverine took his ear off the other day." Frost sighs, irritably. "I keep telling you all that there's no need for this, but you won't listen." He's addressin' the other two guards now, as well as Jenson. "Wolverine has agreed to obey us, but he's not gonna hold to that promise if you keep threatening to fry him." He turns back to the red-faced Jenson. "Get out of my sight! You're not welcome back on this squad until you can learn to control yourself. And you ……." he gestures impatiently to the other two guards " ……. get in here and take his place. Jenson, give DaCosta the remote."

For a moment, it looks as though Jenson is gonna disobey an' just stalk off, but he finally slams a small metal device like a TV remote into the dark skinned guard's hand. With a final backward glance o' pure hatred so obviously directed at me, he leaves, his boots thuddin' hollowly down the hallway.

Have I just made a new enemy? Seems that way.

But it's okay. I can handle it.

Frost heaves a heavy sigh. "Right. Let's get back on schedule. Kelly …….. DaCosta …….. ?

The two guards step forward an' my growl goes up a notch, makin' them edge back an' look at Frost, uncertainly.

Jubilee shrugs at the handler's questin' glance. "I'm sorry. I think he's a bit on edge. It makes him nervous when he's threatened with death by electric shock – I'm sure you understand."

The cub's sarcasm isn't lost on Frost. He shakes his head, apologetically. "We're not here to hurt either of you, however irresponsibly Jenson acted," he assures her, spreadin' his arms peaceably. "I've managed to secure some down time for you both – you'll be taken outside twice a week for some fresh air and exercise. Can you make him understand that?"

"I don't know, he sounds pretty pissed off to me. But I'll try." Jubilee steps in front of me, her eyes betraying the anxiety she feels at havin' to convince a seemingly pissed off feral to play nicely. Most o' my bluster is just for show, but _she_ doesn't know that an' I admire the kid's balls – figuratively speakin', o' course.

"Come on, Wolvie, calm down now. Don't let 'em get the better of you. The nice man isn't going to hurt us. See? He just wants to take us out into the fresh air."

_Nice man?_ Since when were our captors 'nice men'? Frost, however, looks suitably apologetic an' I allow my growl to fade away to a barely perceptible rumble as Jubilee continues to rattle off soothin' nonsense. When I slowly rise from my fightin' crouch, she backs off, lookin' relieved as Frost steps forward to take her place.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Wolverine, but I need you to do as I say. Understand?"

I nod, slowly. "No guns," I grunt out. It's not a suggestion.

"No guns," confirms Frost. He gestures behind him to the two guards an' they lower their rifles, reluctantly. "Now, turn around and put your hands behind your back."

I do so an' DaCosta steps forward with the remote. He presses a button an' my cuffs suddenly click together as they magnetise, effectively restrainin' my arms. If I weren't so on edge, I'd actually be impressed. Whoever designed 'em knows a thing or two about advanced mechanics an' has been spared no expense. It's another example o' how much money has been sunk into this venture – but by whom an' ultimately why is an answer not so easily stumbled upon.

Distracted as I am by the cuffs, I don't notice as DaCosta approaches me once again, this time holdin' a wad o' black material. Jubilee has moved around me to check out my hands an' I am lookin' down at her when the guard drops the blindfold over my eyes.

Understandably, I go crazy ……..

Jubilee yells in alarm as I twist around, catchin' DaCosta with my shoulder an' sendin' him flyin'. I hear his rifle clatter across the floor as he loses his grip on it an' I instinctively turn in that direction, although how I expect to use the dropped weapon with my hands restrained behind my back is anyone's guess. I ain't exactly operatin' to the best o' my abilities right now. Being robbed o' my most basic sense has tipped me over the edge – I was holdin' onto my humanity by the fingernails anyway, but now the feral is fully in control.

God help us all ………

My snarl is loud in my own ears as I switch to full-on predator mode. When I'm like this, somebody usually dies …….. an' it usually ain't pretty either.

"Get it off him! Get it off!" I hear Jubilee's frantic cry an' I turn anxiously in that direction. _The cub! Where is she?_ I lift my head, scenting the room, an' move unerringly in her direction, bloodlust momentarily forgotten. _I have to protect the cub!_

I have only taken two steps when I am tackled simultaneously from both sides, the guards' combined weight draggin' me to the floor, where I am pinned on my stomach, snapping an' snarling. A third body throws itself across my back an' I writhe beneath their weight, tryin' to buck my captors off, an' I whuff air as I am pressed down into the hard unyieldin' floor. A crazed growl reverberates in my chest as I scrabble with my feet at the concrete beneath me, tryin' to gain enough leverage in order to turn the tables on my attackers ……..

Then suddenly, cool fingers brush my face an' the blindfold is removed. A pair of ice blue eyes look back into mine. "Wolvie? Wolvie, it's me. Are you okay?"

An' just those few words spoken by the cub I have sworn to protect are enough to bring me back from the dark place an' put the man firmly back in control.

"Jubilee?" I rasp, the harsh tones o' my voice betrayin' the effort it's takin' to keep the beast at bay for the moment.

"It's okay, Wolvie, I'm here." Jubilee's fingers brush my cheek fleetingly before she looks past me to the three men who are still usin' me for a cushion an' pressin' me into the floor. "Get off him, you idiots! What the hell do you think you're playing at?" She rises to her feet as the weight on my back disappears – unnoticed, I scoot back against the cot, my chest heavin' an' my breath comin' in short uneasy gasps. The beast wants his control back, but I can't let him have it – at least not until I'm sure he won't kill somebody. I can't protect Jubilee if he goes on the rampage.

Oblivious to my inner battle, Jubilee squares herself up to the three guards, one slim accusing finger dartin' out to poke DaCosta in the chest. "You! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I …….."

"He's feral, you idiot! He relies on his senses! You should have warned him what you were going to do!" She throws her hands up in disgust. "Just because you've got a lot of fancy toys an' the two of us locked up in here, it doesn't mean you know everything. You're just fumbling around in the dark, the lot of you – playing at being the big bad villains. I honestly should have let him tear you all to bits for that lousy trick. And don't think that just because his hands were tied he couldn't hurt you. I've seen him get out of far worse situations in the Danger Room – and that wasn't for real! You honestly deserve everything he could throw at you. Idiots, the lot of you!"

I half expect one of the guards to let fly with a fist an' give Jubilee a lesson she won't forget in a hurry, but they actually look surprised by her outburst. DaCosta mutters something under his breath as he walks away to retrieve his rifle an' Frost looks down at his feet, his ears tinged pink with embarrassment. I know how he feels – I've been on the receivin' end o' my fair share o' female tirades. O' course, I never let 'em bother me any. Women are an emotional breed by nature. They need to vent every once in a while.

An' Jubilee vents with the best of 'em.

She drops to her haunches by my side, one hand lifting to brush my hair tenderly back from my face. The action is so reminiscent o' Marie that my breath catches in my throat an' the cub misinterprets it for a gasp o' pain.

"You okay, Wolvie? Did they hurt you?"

"No." Tryin' to regain some shred o' my tattered dignity, I shake my head brusquely. "I'm fine."

Tossin' Frost a calculated glare, I stagger to my feet, not an easy achievement considerin' my hands are still locked behind my back. Jubilee stands possessively by my side, our roles o' protector an' protected seemingly reversed for the moment. I've never seen the kid like this before – so confident an' sure o' herself. She's always given me the impression that she views life as some kind o' amusin' interval until something better comes along – even Danger Room trainin' was looked on as a joke. But now …….. There's a woman emergin' from behind the teenage persona an' she's turnin' out to be one hell of a spitfire. She'll make a fine X-Man one day.

I'll be proud to fight at her side ……..

Provided we survive our current predicament.

Frost steps forward slightly an' Jubilee moves in front of me as I growl a warnin', my hackles risin'. I ain't in the mood for any more fuckin' mind games. If they touch me again, somebody's gonna get hurt.

The guard seems to sense my hostility an' raises his hands. "I'm not going to come any nearer, Wolverine. I …….." He glances quickly at Jubilee, then back to me. "I'm sorry. We handled this really badly. And, all things considered, I think it would be best if we put off your outside exercise until tomorrow."

"Too right," I snarl, my lips curling back to show my displeasure at being fucked with. The beast is slowly regaining more control as I shorten his leash, an' my voice is rough. "Perhaps you'd better go before I bite somebody else's ear off?"

Frost swallows audibly an' nods. "Perhaps we should." He gestures quickly at his two companions an' they begin to move slowly towards the door. He makes to follow, but then hesitates an' turns back. "Y'know, this may come as a surprise to you, Wolverine, but some of us here aren't exactly happy with what we're being forced to do. We're not all Roberts and Crowes. But a job's a job. Beggars can't be choosers."

"Yeah?" My voice is harsh as I spit out a reply. "Try tellin' that to the poor sonofabitch in the cell across the hall."

If Frost is put out by my accusation, he doesn't show it. "We're just trying to make a living, Wolverine," he remarks, simply, an' follows his companions out into the hallway.

For a moment, I actually think that they've forgotten about the cuffs, but there's a sudden audible click an' they disengage – just DaCosta being cautious, I suspect. I briefly entertain the suspicion that Roberts won't be happy with Frost's failure to take his prize weapon outside for R an' R an' I wonder if the handler will get into hot water for his screw up. But then I realise that I really don't care one way or the other. Despite his friendliness, he's still the enemy an' if Roberts decides to fire his sorry ass that's one less guard I have to worry about.

Suddenly weary, I slide down the wall to the floor, burying my face in my hands as my head reels with the rush of adrenalin that comes with any contact with my inner beast. Jubilee drops to her knees by my side an' watches me silently, not offerin' any comment but merely assuring me of her support with her steady presence.

I finally lift my head from my hands with a sigh an' regard my cellmate with a keen eye. "How did you know?" I ask, simply.

Jubilee frowns back at me. "How did I know what?"

"About the blindfold?"

The girl pulls a rueful face. "It was all Kitty's fault really." She looks down at her hands for a moment, as if deciding what an' how much to say. "You remember after you were shot? When Kitty and I came to your room with a sandwich?"

I nod silently, urging her to continue. I could hardly forget. I'm sure my groin still bears her handprint.

"Kitty was shocked that I didn't know you had to eat in order to replenish your energy after a healing coma. It didn't bother me at the time, but afterwards I felt ……… ashamed …….. and I took a long, hard look at myself. And I suddenly understood that if I want to be an X-Man, I have to start taking things seriously. Out in the field, people – my team-mates – will count on me and trust me to keep them safe and I can't do that if I treat everything like a lark. What if what happened to you happened to Kitty? Or Rogue? I would never forgive myself if I was the only one who could save them and I didn't because I didn't know what to do." She heaves a sigh an' I give her a moment to gather her thoughts. "I can't change who I am, Wolverine. I'll always be the one to crack the joke at the worst possible time – the one who is the last into the Danger Room and the first out of it. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But I know now that I need to look out for my team-mates if we're going to survive this crazy ride we call life. So, to answer your question, I've been reviewing everyone's files to learn their strengths and weaknesses. I started with yours. I hate to admit it but, of all the X-Men, you're the one I know the least about. It's heavy going – I'll be old and grey and drawing a pension before I finish. I didn't know ferals came with so much emotional baggage."

She grins at me, shyly, an' I recognise the quip for what it is – an attempt at reconciliation. I tip my head. "Thanks," I reply, brusquely.

"S'okay. Think nothing of it. Doesn't mean we're engaged or anything."

She starts to rise to her feet, only to be distracted by the sound of a throaty chuckle comin' from the hallway. We both glance over to see Victor leanin' casually against the cell door, grinnin' at us through the bars._ Christ, I didn't even sense him comin'! _I'm more out of it than I thought.

Victor's dark eyes flick between me an' Jubilee. "Touching scene," he growls. "You getting cosy with the frail, Jimmy?"

"Don't call me that," I snap back. "My name's Logan." This feral may hold the key to my past, but the only name I can ever remember using is Logan an' I can see no reason for changin' that now just on some guy's say so. Regardless o' whether the guy in question claims to be my brother or not.

"You're touchy," Victor observes, sourly, his brow wrinklin' in distaste. "S'matta, Jimmy? Did the big, bad feral get free again an' shake ya all up?"

I can feel my hackles risin' as Victor fixes us with a steady glare. "That's none o' your damn business!" I snap back.

Victor barks a short laugh. "Jimmy, when will ya ever learn? Ya gotta embrace the beast – let it go free, not keep it caged. You'll never realise your true potential if you deny your very nature. Take a look at me, for example." Victor flexes his talons, proudly. "I've allowed my beast to go free an' I'm proud of who I am."

"I'm not an animal," I grate, through clenched teeth.

"What, you're implying that _I_ am?" He considers this concept a moment, before allowin' a grudging nod. "Well, maybe you're right, but at least I'm not stuntin' my nature. You shouldn't deny your birthright, Jimmy. It'll come back to haunt you one day."

"You say yer not denyin' yer nature, yet _you're_ out there, an' _we're_ in here." I rise slowly to my feet, keepin' my eyes fixed on Victor's the whole way. I haven't known him long, yet he strikes me as the kinda guy you don't take for granted, even when he's safely on the other side of a barred door. "Do _they_ know what you are? Or have they no use for another feral?"

"Oh, they have a use for me alright. The difference is that they don't have to keep _me_ locked up an' use hokey serums to force me to co-operate. I'm quite happy to lend these guys my particular talents." He studies his nails for a moment, an' flicks away an imaginary speck o' dirt. "But my services don't come cheap, o' course. No, me an' the bossman, we've struck a deal."

"Deal?" _Why am I not likin' the sound o' this?_ "What kind o' deal?"

"One you shouldn't worry your head over, Jimmy. That's between me an' the bossman. Although …….." he hesitates an' glances towards Jubilee, who edges closer to me. "…….. I've been thinkin' o' re-negotiating our terms since settin' eyes on the frail there."

"You can damn well keep your eyes and your terms to yourself, mister." Jubilee raises her fists, unconsciously, as if preparing to unleash her fireworks. "I'm not for sale."

"Everybody has a price, lady. Even you," Victor remarks, easily.

"What about the poor bastard they dragged in last night?" I spit back. "Did _he_ have a price too? What did Roberts promise you for _him?"_

Victor frowns, genuinely puzzled by my words. "What guy are we talking about, Jimmy?"

"The guy in the cell across the hallway." I jerk my head in that general direction. "They brought him in last night. He was all busted up."

"Oh, him!" Victor grins, showing his teeth. "He wasn't brought in last night. He's been here for weeks."

It's my turn to frown. "Then what ……..?"

"He was sent out on a job a couple o' days ago. Didn't go too well, as I understand it, an' he'll be out o' action for a while. Pity, 'cause he's a damn fine asset." He pauses, eyeing me speculatively. "In fact, he's the reason you're here, Jimmy."

"Who is he?" I demand, roughly, rememberin' the guy's scent an' how it seemed so familiar to me.

Victor chuckles. "Oh, I ain't gonna tell you that, Jimmy. It's far more fun if you figure it out for yourself."

"I ain't one fer games," I growl back.

"No, you never were, but this ain't a game. It's deadly serious. But just to whet your appetite, I'll give ya a couple o' clues - the bossman went to a lot o' trouble to get hold o' this guy once he realised he had a connection to somebody else in your life. Somebody with a lot o' influence. So who do you figure was forced to turn you in in order to get him back?"

My blood turns to ice in my veins. "Who?"

Victor wags a finger at me. "Not telling you that, Jimmy. No fun, remember? I'd hate to deprive you o' the satisfaction o' puzzling it out for yourself." He turns then to leave, but looks back at Jubilee. "See ya, sweets. Keep yourself pretty for me." A suggestive click of his tongue follows this statement an' then he's gone, leavin' us starin' at the empty doorway.

"What the hell was all that about?" Jubilee asks into the followin' silence.

My head is still reelin' from Victor's parting shot. If I'm readin' his intent right, Roberts an' his men had inside help in taking me down. I never stood a chance.

"Wolvie?" Jubilee is watchin' me, a worried frown on her face. _Do I tell her? _I think I should. The kid deserves to know why she's here.

"Things just went from bad to worse," I respond, slowly. "I think there's a traitor at the mansion ………"

**NEXT:** Wolverine's first mission goes badly …….. very, VERY badly.


	21. Conversions

Hey, everyone! I'm typing this with the noise of our bathroom being demolished ringing in my ears! Honestly, my head is thumping so please excuse any spelling mistakes! Any discomfort should be worth it when I see the glorious end result of a shiny new bathroom in a couple of week's time!

Once again, I am grateful to all who left reviews for the last chapter! **Comic-cake, moviemon44, desy, seargentlambchop, notashamedtobesoilyfan, pinkdrama, pepper-maroon, Mrstrentreznor, Mrs Speer, Laudine **and **alexmonalisa!  
**

And now .......... onward! More questions are to be answered!

**ooXoo**

**21. Conversions**

**Rogue:**

_How the hell did this happen?_

No, wait. Let me re-phrase that.

I know how it happened. I may be young, but I'm not stupid and I've been aware of the facts of life since the tender age of eleven. When little Oscar Jackman invited me around to his house to see his new tank of tropical fish, my mom sat me down and gave me a long talk. Admittedly, most of it went way over my head and seemed to focus on intimate areas that made me blush an' giggle in an embarrassed sort of way. The intervening years shed light on my mom's sketchy explanations to the point where I could consider myself well informed if not actually experienced. My first and only lover certainly broadened my horizons.

No, what I mean is, _how _did this happen? Because I was under the impression that precautions weren't necessary – if I'd known the risks I would certainly have been more careful. Maybe I could sue? Somebody's obviously made a huge scientific faux-pas and ought to be held responsible. Shouldn't there be a law against lulling people into a false sense of security?

But if I'd known, would I have done any different? I guess not. My emotions and the heat of the moment over-rode my common sense each time. I've only got myself to blame – I couldn't wait to give of myself completely and now I've got to live with the consequences of my actions. My life an' the lives of those around me will be forever changed now, thanks to my own foolish desires.

Is this what I wanted for my future? Yes. In a way. But it's too early. I wanted to live a little first – have some fun and maybe see some of the world. But that chance is gone now. I have to think of others first. My life and my own wishes are unimportant now.

But it doesn't have to be like that. There are other …….. possibilities. Do I even want to consider those?

No. But I have to. I have to figure out what's best for me now that Logan's gone - now that my lover is dead.

It's late. I've been sitting here for hours, trying to get my thoughts in order – to get my head around the enormity of my situation. I won't deny it's been a shock – I feel as though I've been doused in ice cold water and hung out to dry. I still can't believe it. I keep hoping that Henry will knock on my door and tell me that it's all been a huge mistake. But I know he won't do that. He's a brilliant scientist and he knows his job too well. He wouldn't tell me something so important without being completely sure of his facts.

The mansion is silent – most of the residents are asleep. Kitty sat with me for a time, until fatigue forced her to retire to bed, but I'm too pent up to sleep. My mind is in a whirl of conflicting thoughts. Should I, shouldn't I? What do I do?

I hear a floorboard creak down the hall. It seems as though someone is up and about, perhaps sneaking down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. _What time is it anyway?_ I glance at the bedside clock, startled to see those glowing red numbers proclaiming it to be twenty past two in the morning. _Have I really been sat here for that long?_ I thought time only flew by when you were having fun?

Soft footsteps are coming down the hallway now. My room is at the end of the hall so, whoever it is, they won't be coming much further. _Ah, there you go, they've stopped._ I hear the sharp click of a door opening and then the footsteps again. But instead of receding, they're getting nearer and I shake my head in puzzlement. _Who ……..?_

A soft tap sounds at my door. "Rogue? Y'still awake, chere?"

_Oh god, it's the Cajun._ "Go away, Remy."

"Non, chere. Remy not seen de petite for days. He seen the light under your door an' needs to know that you're okay."

"No …….. please …….." But my entreaty falls on deaf ears as my door slowly opens and a tousled haired figure peers around it. "Remy knows you're hurtin', chere, but it's not good to keep yourself all cooped up alone. Is dere anything Remy can do to help?"

"No. Please ……. go away ……." I turn my head to the side, unwilling to let the Cajun see my face – to see the tears that I know are still staining my cheeks. But those sharp red eyes miss nothing and they widen in surprise as they notice the obvious signs of misery marring my features.

"Y'been cryin', chere!" Remy immediately steps into my room and closes the door behind him. In the brief interlude as he crosses the floor to the bedside, I can see that he's dressed for a night on the town – he was obviously in the process of sneaking back into the mansion. His muscular frame is sporting a pair of smart black pants and a loose cream shirt. A red silk scarf is draped casually around his shoulders and a diamond earring sparkles rakishly in one ear. At least, I presume it's a diamond. I doubt that the image conscious Remy LeBeau would settle for anything less.

_Isn't it strange what the mind dwells on when it's suffering from shock?_

Before I can protest, Remy settles on the bed beside me and reaches for my hand, his handsome face lined with concern. "Speak to me, chere. If you wanna talk about de Wolverine, I'm here to listen."

"Oh god, Remy!" And suddenly the past few days of bottling everything up comes crashing down on me and I bury my face into his shoulder, sobbing helplessly all over his obviously expensive and sharply pressed shirt, which smells of the Cajun's cologne with a faint smoky after-scent, curtesy of the nightclub he's been entertaining all evening. Remy holds me close, stroking my back gently and murmuring soothing words which are lost amidst the sound of my panted efforts to draw breath. "There there, chere. Let it all out. Remy don' mind havin' a wet shoulder."

His kindness overwhelms me and I cry until I haven't got a tear left to shed and my eyes are sore and swollen. Remy suffers it all in stoic silence, even when I wipe my runny nose on the end of his immaculate silk scarf for want of a tissue.

"Why don' you tell Remy what's wrong, eh?" The Cajun tactfully removes his scarf from my immediate reach and hands me a tissue from the box on my bedside table. "A problem shared is a problem halved, non?"

"Remy, ah …….." And suddenly I want to tell this man the truth – to tell a veritable stranger something that I haven't even been able to admit to my team-mates. I don't know why – does there have to be a reason? All I know is that I need someone other than Henry and Kitty to confide in. Someone who will look after me and help me to make the right decisions – someone neutral ……..

"Chere?" Remy's eyes look devilish in the light from my bedside lamp as he pushes me back slightly to study my tear-stained face, but they are full of genuine concern.

I swallow audibly and draw a calming breath. "Remy, ah …….. oh god, help me, Remy! Ah'm pregnant ……..!"

**oooOOOooo**

**Wolverine:**

The touch is gentle – hesitant – but wakes me instantly from a dreamless sleep, alerting me to the presence of my mate, tucked up against my back. I huff a breath as her hand slides across my hip an' grazes my stomach, driftin' sensually downwards to zero in on my morning hard-on with unerring accuracy. I sigh as her cool fingers wrap around my turgid length.

"Good morning, big boy! Looks like you're in the mood for some fun."

"Always, darlin', I reply, an' then groan as those talented fingers begin to stroke me from base to tip. The delighted giggle that sends a puff of warm air rushin' across my neck tells me that my lover is pleased with the response her fingers are provoking.

Slowly, an' with great deliberation, she works me towards my ultimate release, knowin' exactly how much pressure to use an' how to move in order to change my breathin' from slow an' steady to fast an' anxious, broken now an' then by heated moans. I suspect she's tappin' into the side o' me she holds in her head – using my memories to jack me off exactly the way I like it. She's a talented little minx, I'll give her that, but I couldn't care less how she's doing it as long as I get to come.

In no time at all, she brings me to the brink, but when I begin to move my hips, thrustin' my eager cock into her fingers, I push her hand away an' roll over quickly, takin' her by surprise an' pinning her to the bed beneath me. She laughs as she looks back into my lust darkened eyes, wriggling her hips an' begging me without words to take her.

I am only too happy to oblige.

She gasps as I thrust forward, sinkin' my throbbin' member deep into her responsive body. For a moment I lie still, content to enjoy the feel of her tight heat around me, an' then I begin to move, slowly at first but quickly buildin' pace as the need to ejaculate overtakes my desires. My lover has pleasured me so well that I am just seconds away from releasin' my seed deep within her.

Our love-makin' is quick but no less intense, the only sounds those of our frenzied breaths an' lustful cries as we move together in a dance older than time itself.

Afterwards, I roll, takin' my lover with me an' restin' her on my chest as we slowly bask in the after-glow of our sex-induced high. Still inside her, I stroke her hair tenderly as she rests her head on my shoulder an' smiles back at me, her green eyes filled with adoration. _God, I love this woman._ She makes me feel so alive.

As I breathe a comfortable sigh, she tilts her head to look up at me. "Ah love you," she whispers, softly.

"I love you too, darlin', I reply instantly, feelin' myself growing steadily harder an' wondering if we've got time for another ride before breakfast.

"Ah've got something to tell you, sugah." She begins to stroke my chest, almost shyly, sendin' shivers o' delight through my body,

"Oh really?" I ask, nonchalantly. "If it's about how good I am between the sheets, I already know that, darlin'."

"No, silly!" She swats my arm an' laughs – a musical sound that I have already grown to love as much as my woman. "It's something wonderful! Logan, ah'm …….."

Something bats me on the side o' the head. "For Christ's sake, wake up an' stop makin' that godawful noise. People are tryin' to sleep here!"

Confused and disoriented, I roll onto my back, peering into the darkness. _What the hell ……..? Where am I? An' where's Marie?_

An' then it all comes crashing back – our abduction – the cell. Marie was never here at all. _Christ, it was all just a dream!_

Jubilee is peering over the side o' the cot at me. "Wolvie, you okay? You were tossing and turning in your sleep."

"Dreamin'," I respond shortly, raisin' a cuffed hand carefully to my face an' rubbin' my eyes with the tips o' my fingers. "Christ!"

"Well, it must have been one helluva nightmare, 'cause you were grunting and groaning something awful." She peers at me myopically in the darkness, obviously unable to see more than a vague outline o' me. "That sorta thing usually only happens to me when I've eaten cheese. Or Gambit's gumbo. That stuff should carry a health warning."

"I'll enlighten him to that when we get back," I snap back, then instantly regret the harsh words when I hear her gasp. Christ, none o' this is the kid's fault – I shouldn't be taking it out on her. But that dream …….. it felt so real. I can still feel Marie's hands on me – her breath on my neck – the gentle poundin' of her heart as she lay against me. I could swear I was back in my room with my lover in my arms.

_What does it mean?_

"Will we ever get back home?" Jubilee's whispered words break into my thoughts an' I berate myself silently for reminding her of our predicament – as if we could forget.

"O' course we'll get back." I inject my voice with as much sincerity as I can muster an' hope she can't see through my ploy. Because I'm beginning to have doubts concerning the plausibility of our escape. Don't get me wrong, I ain't about to give up – I'll never stop lookin' for a way outta here, but it's more for her sake than mine. Without the antidote to the C-serum I'm a dead man, so any escape attempt is a suicide mission. But if my life has to be forfeit in order to save the cub, then so be it.

I am about to perjure myself further when I hear movement at the end o' the hallway. I immediately stiffen, holdin' up a hand to forestall any queries from Jubilee, an' then curse colourfully as the lights flare to full intensity in our cell, blindin' my eyes. "Jesus Christ ……..!"

By the time I can see again, Kelly an' DaCosta are stridin' into the cell. Kelly throws a bundle o' black leather at me. "Put that on."

I stare in horror at the clothin' lying on the floor beside me, recognisin' it instantly. My fightin' uniform. I was hopin' that my suspicions of a traitor at the mansion were unfounded, but my uniform's presence only confirms it. A faint odour o' cleanin' fluid surrounds the jacket an' I realise with a jolt that it's the one Jubilee so artfully decorated – an' which I left in Marie's room. The thought o' the traitor invadin' my mate's privacy so casually sends a growl to my lips.

Jubilee turns her back on me as I strip, blushin' at the thought o' me standin' naked behind her. Gettin' outta my jeans with the cuffs on is hard enough – gettin' into the fightin' leathers is a nightmare an' neither Kelly or DaCosta offer to help. I am puzzled as to why I'm being forced to wear it, although I have my suspicions. But then I begin to struggle with the zipper an' I put my thoughts on the back burner until I have solved my immediate problem. _Christ!_ I thought undoing my jeans zipper to have a piss was murder, but this …….. _God-dammit!_

Jubilee eventually turns around, attracted by my less than gentlemanly language, an' offers to help. Tactfully, she closes her eyes as she pulls up my pants zipper an' then grins up at me as she fastens the jacket up to my chin, although there is a blush staining her cheeks.

"I won't tell Rogue if you don't," she whispers, an' I nod silently, amused by the mouthy teenager being afraid o' retribution from my mate.

Any further attempt at conversation is halted by my cuffs suddenly clickin' together in front o' me an' I jerk around to see Roberts an' several other guards enterin' the cell. Before I can react, two of 'em seize my shoulders an' spin me around, slammin' me face first into the wall. "Hey, easy!" With the barrel of a pulse rifle stickin' in my right ear to discourage any thoughts o' gettin' feisty, the cuffs are released an' then re-magnetised behind my back. Roberts steps up to my side as the two guards try to push me through the wall.

"You're being sent on a mission, Wolverine …….." Roberts begins, an' I twist my head to catch him in the corner o' my eye.

"What? In the middle o' the night ……..?"

The gun stock smashin' into the small o' my back almost sends me to my knees – only the strong arms o' the men holdin' me keeps me on my feet.

"You are not in a position to ask questions, Wolverine." Roberts is clearly not in the mood for small talk. "Your function is to serve as our weapon – nothing more, nothing less. Crowe …….." _Oh shit ……._ "Prepare him,"

Crowe steps forward, an eerily delighted leer on his face and a device resembling Scott's visor in his hands. At first sight o' the opaque eye shield my chest tightens painfully an' my body begins to shake, involuntarily. I've seen something like this before, I'm sure of it …….. I remember it being fitted over my head …….. pain ……… blinding terror ……

I struggle violently in my captors' grasp, tryin' to quell the risin' panic in my gut that is turnin' the blood to ice in my veins. "Ya ain't puttin' that fuckin' thing on me," I growl, roughly.

"Oh, but we are, Wolverine," Roberts assures me in no uncertain terms. "Otherwise the consequences will be most dire …….. for your young companion."

The two guards holdin' me against the wall allow me just enough leverage to twist around slightly an' see Jubilee being restrained by Bonebreaker. He has her back to his chest, his left hand clamped across her nose an' mouth to muffle her screams. The other is roaming her body, totally oblivious to her kickin' feet an' squirming torso. As he catches my eye he grins an' pumps his hips, grindin' what I presume is an already well developed erection into her backside to remind her of what she'll get if I don't behave myself.

Her eyes, above the almost suffocatin' presence of his hand, are wide with fear.

I howl in anger an' frustration, twistin' in my captors' grasp. "Ya fuckin' bastard, Roberts! I'll tear ya fuckin' throat out!"

"You only have yourself to blame, Wolverine. Your young companion will be quite safe if you simply do as you're told. But you repeatedly try to thwart me and it simply will not do. You need to be taught a lesson."

"Let me do her now, boss." Bonebreaker puts his hand over Jubilee's breast an' squeezes. "He won't disobey again if I do her right here in front of him."

Roberts nods his assent.

"Bastard!" I lunge back against my captors, but they're holdin' me tight. "Don't ya dare touch her, I'm warnin' ya!"

I snarl like a rabid dog as Bonebreaker begins to drag Jubilee towards the cot, fumblin' with his pants zipper, ignorin' her terrified whimpers. He laughs at my attempts to free myself an' then grunts in annoyance as Roberts holds up his hand, silently ordering him to stop. I cease struggling as the bossman steps nearer an' presses a .45 Defender to my side.

"It's all very simple, Wolverine," he croones. "Co-operate and your young companion retains her virginity. Continue to resist, as you did with Frost yesterday, and Bonebreaker will take her right here and now …….. along with anyone else who wishes to have some fun."

"I've been co-operatin'," I growl back, almost out o' my mind with fear for Jubilee. "It's your fuckin' guards who need to control themselves ………" I break off, suddenly realising this is about more than a simple case o' me disobeying his guards. _What the hell is happening here? Why all the bullshit? _It's almost as though ……..

_Oh …….._

_Oh god ………_

He's trying to break me ……..

To make me totally an' unconditionally his weapon …….. his to use as he sees fit, without me havin' a mind o' my own.

As if he hasn't got a firm enough hold o' me with that fuckin' serum. The fact that he holds my life in the palm of his hand don't matter to him anymore – he wants to stamp his authority all over me.

He wants to be the Alpha ……..

An' if that's what it takes to save the cub from a whole world o' hurtin', then so be it.

'Cause I couldn't live with myself if I allowed her to be raped.

But one day, he'll pay ……… Him an' his whole damn crew ………

"Alright." I allow myself to relax in my captors' grasp, showing my obedience. "Get on with it."

"A wise decision." _As if there was ever one to begin with. _Roberts signals to Bonebreaker an' he releases the cub, givin' her a little push away from him. She immediately rushes to my side, tryin' to get her arms around me for protection despite the overpowerin' presence o' the two guards. "Logan …….. oh god ………" I've never heard her call me by my real name before an' it serves to show how scared she must have been to use it this time.

I try to cover her with my body, but the two guards push her roughly aside as Roberts once again moves forward to assert his authority.

"Now that we've established just who exactly is in charge here, let's get on with the procedure." He gestures once more to Crowe. "You know what to do."

Despite my promise to behave, I can't help but struggle as he fits the visor into place over my eyes. I'm convinced I've worn something like this before, an' fractured pieces o' memory are startin' to leak through the mush the previous Weapon X scientists made o' my brain. I can't lock onto anything solid, but the feelin' o' terror inspired by the shiny metal visor is all-encompassing an' forces an actual whimper o' fear from my lips. As the visor touches my temples, there's a sudden sensation o' suction an' it locks into place, leavin' me starin' at the wall through a smoky grey eye-plate. I have a suspicion the device has been magnetised to my metal skull in order to keep it in place an' the sense o' being trapped inside the nightmare contraption sends my heart racing.

I can feel Crowe fixin' a microphone an' earpiece into place an' I snap at his hand when it roams too near my mouth – the beast within is beginning to assert his control over my rapidly weakening psyche. The punishment for my hasty attack is a smack across the back o' the head with the stock of a pulse rifle, an action which has a two-fold effect as my forehead rebounds off the wall with the force of the blow. Shakin' my head as stars explode before my eyes, I struggle to stifle the snarl that is forming on my lips, painfully aware that if I lose control now, the cub will suffer Roberts' revenge.

I startle as Jubilee suddenly shoulders between the guards, pushin' her way to Crowe's side. Her face is white an' her eyes are dark with fear, but there's a grim set to her features as she squares herself up to the guard.

"You're setting him on edge – he'll be calmer if you let me do it."

I see Crowe glance at Roberts, raising a questing eyebrow. Roberts hesitates for the barest moment an' then nods, curtly, steppin' back to allow the cub to take his place. Crowe guides her hands to the visor, explaining in clipped tones what he wants her to do. Jubilee listens intently to his instructions – instructions which are lost on me as I try to get my breathin' under control.

A gentle hand alights on my arm an' I look down into the cub's cornflower blue eyes as she shows me a short coiled wire which is attached to the visor's earpiece.

"This is the final connection, Wolvie. It needs to plug into the port in the back of your neck. Okay? _He_ says there will be a moment of disorientation but that it should pass quickly."

I nod sharply to show that I understand. "Get on with it." I growl, roughly.

Jubilee takes a deep breath an' reaches to the back of my neck with the lead. As she pushes it home with an audible click, blinding light assaults my eyes an' I reel sideways, overcome by a sudden rush o' nausea an' dizziness. My two bodyguards hold me up as I struggle to ride the flood of conflicting information which is threatening to drop me face first to the floor.

"Jesus Christ ………!" As my head clears an' my vision returns to normal, Crowe pushes Jubilee aside an' activates his own comm device. "Control, this is Crowe. He's plugged into you now. Are you receiving?"

A pause, then I can just make out a tinny voice coming from the guard's earpiece. "Copy that. I'm receiving him loud and clear. His heartbeat and respiration are a bit erratic, but he's adjusted to the feed just fine."

"Copy that, Control."

Roberts steps in once more as my two guards pull me away from the wall an' swing me around to face him. "You have been fitted with the latest in surveillance and tracking equipment, Wolverine. The visor is actually a camera – we will see everything as you see it, so don't even think about double-crossing us. We will know instantly. The port in your neck allows us to feed information directly into your brain – it will appear on your visor as a virtual display. We can also monitor your body functions and manage the mental impulses that control your claws – a necessary precaution should you decide to dispatch your handlers once the cuffs are removed. The visor also contains standard communication equipment, which I assume you are familiar with."

"Thought of everything, ain't ya?" I growl back. I ain't exactly over the moon with the notion of 'em being able to control my claws, but the deed is done an' there's nothing I can do about that right now. With luck, they'll never have occasion to do it.

"The visor was a necessary precaution considering your particular talents, Wolverine," Roberts informs me. "It has other uses as well, but if you carry out your mission to our satisfaction you need never find out about those."

_Well, ain't that just peachy?_ "An' the mission is?" I ask, humourlessly.

"You will be briefed en-route." Roberts raises a hand an' Kelly an' DaCosta step forward. "Your handler is waiting with the helicopter, Wolverine." _Ah, that's where Frost got to._ "Carry out your mission satisfactorily and you will be rewarded. Fail, or refuse to return to us, and your young companion will have the opportunity to become intimately acquainted with several of your former guards."

"I'll be back," I snarl, roughly. "Y'hear me, darlin'?" I add, turnin' my attention to the cub. "I ain't gonna abandon ya, no matter what."

She nods slowly, attempting an encouraging smile as Kelly an' DaCosta begin to lead me from the cell. _God, I hope she's gonna be okay._ Because if they harm one hair on her head while I'm away, believe me, blood will flow. An' Roberts an' his fuckin' serum can go to hell for all I care.

An' if that's what it takes to get my revenge, I'll be happy to join him there ……..

**NEXT:** Wolverine's target is revealed!


	22. Reluctant Assassin

Hey, everyone! Welcome to another chapter!

Once again, I am grateful to everyone who took the time and trouble to review! **Comic-cake, moviemom44, Sniktchick, pepper-maroon, Mrstrentreznor, Laudine, alexmonalisa, MidLifeCrisis **and **notashamedtobesoilyfan!**

And now ... onward! Wolverine's first msssion awaits ...

**ooXoo**

**22****. Reluctant Assassin**

The journey through the base an' out to the helicopter is made in total blackness – Control shuts down my visor so that I can't see, presumably to prevent me from memorisin' a way out. I am guided through the hallways by Kelly an' DaCosta. Each rest a hand lightly on a shoulder, using pressure to indicate which way I should go or when to stop. A muttered word warns me of a step or a doorway. I'm reminded o' the time a serial killer I was trackin' through the sewers o' Madripoor threw acid in my face. My eyes were useless for a time an' I had to rely on my other senses to pinpoint his location an' bring him to justice.

My eyes are similarly useless to me now, but I still have my ears an' nose.

The further I get from the cell, the quicker the suppressant wears off, until I know I am once again operating at peak efficiency. Stands to reason that the gas would wear off quickly once I was out of its immediate influence. Roberts could hardly send his prize killer out on a mission with half of his mutant arsenal out o' commission. With my head clearin' quickly, I begin cataloguing scents an' sounds, creatin' a mental snapshot o' my surroundings. My first clue comes at the end o' the cell block hallway when I am ushered into an elevator which immediately begins to rise. Going up to get out means that we're somewhere underground. But where? Are we in the city? Out in the suburbs? Are we even in the same State?

The place doesn't have the same feel to it as the original Weapon X base – even without my memories, I'll remember the stink o' those hellish hallways until the day I die – so I know we're somewhere new. But no matter how hard they try, they can't disguise their own scents – I manage to isolate the unique traces of at least fifty individuals besides the ones I already know. Which means that this set-up is bigger than I originally thought. Are they all Weapon X operatives, or do they also employ casual workers for the more mundane tasks? I figure that's something I won't find out until I finally manage to break free o' the flamin' cell.

I encounter Victor's scent on numerous occasions. It seems he has the run o' the place, which is strange considerin' he's a mutant an' Roberts is in the habit o' keepin' mutants under lock an' key. What is Victor doing to secure his safety here? And, more importantly, what has Roberts offered him in return?

I receive my biggest shock as we move through what I presume are the upper levels o' the base – I hear a baby crying. _A baby, fer Christ's sake!_ What the hell is a baby doing in a place like this?

Y'know what? I don't think I wanna know.

We eventually emerge via a sliding door into what I presume is a barn – I can smell hay an' leather an' ….. horses? I snort an' force the pungent scent outta my nostrils, wonderin' if I've made a mistake, but no, the spoor is too distinct to be mistaken for anything else. The more I learn, the more the questions keep mounting up.

Crowe pushes open a set o' typically creaky doors at the end o' the barn and I am pushed out into the night air. My nose twitches as I eagerly inhale the scent o' trees an' grass an' wide open spaces, an' Kelly an' DaCosta tighten their grip on my shoulders, as if suspecting that the clear air has charged me for flight. If I had just myself to worry about, I would be tempted to make a run for it. But there is the cub's safety to consider an' I won't leave her alone in Roberts' clutches, even if it means sacrificin' my own survival. She is a team-mate an' friend. An' cubs are precious.

I can hear the sound of a helicopter now – probably a modified Black Hawk, if my memories o' Black Ops missions with the Canadian Secret Service serves me true. There's plenty o' clearance above my head, but one o' my handlers pushes me down into a stoop anyway, just in case I try anything stupid an' take my fool head off with the rotor. It's an interestin' prospect – I doubt the blade could sever the metal in my neck, but it seems my captors aren't willin' to risk it.

Once inside the chopper, I am pushed onto a bench set against the bare fuselage. My cuffs immediately magnetise to a metal bar that runs along the back o' the seat, effectively holdin' me in place. As the chopper lifts off, I expect my visor to clear now that there's no danger o' me noting our location, but it remains dark an' I cock my head to the side, zeroing in on another familiar scent.

"Frost? Ya gonna let me ride the whole way in the dark?"

There's a pause an' I figure Frost has just nodded. _Asshole._ "Standard operating procedures, Wolverine. Your visor won't be cleared until we land."

"Am I at least to know who my target is?"

I whuff air an' double over as a gun barrel slams into my stomach. Struggling to draw breath, I ride out the pain an' then cautiously right myself, testin' the air an' knowin' instantly that the guard closest to me is Crowe.

The guy's too handy with the barrel o' that rifle for his own good.

I decide to throw caution to the wind an' tilt my head in his direction. "I'll take that as a 'no' then?" I throw back, an' brace myself for the blow I hear whistlin' through the air …..

**oooOOOooo**

Professor Xavier paused as the Med-lab doors rumbled open before him and then guided his wheelchair through the doorway and into the lab proper, expertly negotiating the examination tables and other equipment in his way as he headed towards the second set of doors at the rear. Like all the entrances on this level, they were stylised with the team's trademark X and resolutely remained closed as his chair stopped before them. Palming a heat sensitive control pad on the wall beside them, he leaned forward to allow the computer to read his retina, trying not to feel self conscious as he adjusted his robe around his striped pyjamas.

"Who is it and what do you want?" The voice of his chief research scientist and friend, Henry McCoy, issued from the com-unit, sounding irritable and strangely distracted. "I am conducting some very important research and cannot afford to be interrupted."

"It's me, Henry. You asked to see me?"

"Oh yes, Professor! I am so sorry. Please forgive me."

The doors opened immediately and the Professor motored softly into the private lab beyond. This was Doctor McCoy's pride and joy – his inner sanctum – home of his many experiments and little projects that he wished to keep safe from prying eyes and careless fingers. Maintaining the lab was costly, but many a scientific breakthrough had seen the light of day here and so Henry was indulged and allowed unlimited access to the Xavier fortune. Lately, he'd all but locked himself away here, working night and day on some undisclosed project and Xavier wondered what he could have discovered that was so important as to summon him from his bed at 2.25 in the morning.

The Beast was sitting at his desk, peering thoughtfully at a computer screen through a pair of round glasses, which were perched comically on his leonine nose. He took them off as the Professor approached and rose eagerly to his feet.

"Professor, I am so pleased you could come. I have monumental news!"

"Do tell, Henry. I would hate to think I have been summoned from my bed in the small hours of the morning for something merely mundane." He smiled to show that the reprimand wasn't to be taken seriously, but the Beast was too thick skinned to allow mere words to curb his enthusiasm. He swivelled the computer terminal around for the Professor's perusal, tapping the screen with the earpiece of his glasses.

"The density was all wrong, Professor. Do you see? I should have noticed it right from the start, but we were all reacting to the evidence in front of our eyes and not examining the finer details. But once I decoded the matrix, it all fell into place!"

Xavier held up a hand as Henry drew breath to continue, too excited to realise that he wasn't making sense. "Henry, please, you're losing me. What exactly are we talking about here?"

"The adamantium skeleton, of course." Henry shook his head distractedly, as though it should all have been perfectly obvious, and strode in his fluid loping gait to the gurney which Xavier knew held the Wolverine's gory remains. He winced involuntarily as the doctor threw back the protective covering, revealing the shiny metal skeleton in all its shocking detail. It was a hauntingly beautiful creation, perfectly rendered in minute detail, but the fact that it belonged _inside_ a man whom Xavier had come to regard as a friend made him feel sick to the stomach.

He realised Henry was speaking once more and forced himself to concentrate. "…..so I double-checked my findings and cross-referenced them with the DNA database. The results were astounding! There was absolutely no match at all with the man we know as Wolverine."

Xavier shook his head and tried to focus on the enormity of what McCoy was telling him. "Did I hear you right, Henry? Did I hear you just say ….?"

"That there is no evidence of DNA in or around the skeleton that any of my scans or equipment can detect." McCoy grinned at the Professor in obvious delight at his good news. "Wherever that skeleton came from, it did not come out of the Wolverine …."

**oooOOOooo**

I grunt as the chopper banks sharply, knockin' my head against the fuselage, an' I realise with a start that I've actually been jolted out of a light doze. Air travel usually scares the shit outta me – don't ask me why 'cause I've forgotten – but it's been going on for as long as I remember an' I hate it. Physically loathe it with every fibre of my being. I probably had a 'plane dropped on my head when I was a baby or something, but even the thought o' flyin' brings me out cold. I try to avoid it whenever possible, which ain't easy when you're a major player in a band o' super-powered do-gooders that uses a jet as casually as a normal person might use a bus. That I managed to fall asleep in a noisy an' obviously airborne helicopter is something of a miracle. Or an indication o' how exhausted I am. After all, I haven't really slept since me an' Jubilee were taken. Havin' a bunch o' guards constantly poundin' past your cell an' proddin' you awake with pulse rifles at all hours o' the night in order to give you a serum shot kinda disrupts the sleep patterns somewhat.

The angle o' the chopper tells me it's coming in to land an' moments later we touch down with a jolt. My cuffs de-magnetise from the bar an' I am pulled from my seat, staggering slightly as I am 'helped' to disembark. I feel the business end of a pulse rifle settle between my shoulder blades as Frost steps closer an' begins to prepare me for my mission.

"Control, this is Frost, authorisation code Zero X-Alpha. Stand by to release the cuffs and activate visor."

"Copy that, X-Alpha. Standing by."

"Activate."

There is a click as my cuffs release an' fall away, leavin' my hands free for the first time in days. I flex my fingers, rubbin' the feelin' back into 'em, an' try to unsheathe my claws. They fail to deploy an' the tilt of my head conveys the question I haven't put into words.

"You won't be able to unsheathe your claws yet, Wolverine. At least, not until the chopper lifts off again. Control doesn't want you gutting us and making a run for it."

"Aw heck, I wouldn't gut _you,_ Frost." I tip my head at Crowe. "For him, I might make an exception."

"Yeah, real funny, Wolverine." The pressure between my shoulder blades increases an' I rock forward a step just to give myself some breathin' space, "Ya talk real smart for a guy who's life depends on a daily injection."

"Cut it out, Crowe, he didn't mean anything by it." Frost's tone conveys a reprimand, but I can sense the smile behind his words. So Frost likes the idea o' me sheathin' my claws in Crowe's gut, does he? Maybe I'll remember that for later.

The guard lifts my hand an' fastens something around my wrist. The device resembles a robust watch, with digital numbers counting backwards.

"What's this?" I ask, curiously.

"It's your aH-indicator," Frost explains, in clipped tones. "It tells you how long you've got before you need your next shot."

I tilt the face towards me, noting with concern the hours remaining to me. "There's just less than four hours," I retort, sharply. "Ain't Roberts cuttin' it a bit fine?"

"It's his insurance that you'll do the job and return to us," Frost tells me quietly, an' I catch the note o' regret in his voice. "Be back here before that timer runs out, otherwise ….." He lets the thought go unsaid, but I don't need a diagram to know what'll happen if I fail to make the rendezvous. Heaven will be takin' receipt o' one clawed an' extremely cranky angel …

Or I could go the other way an' end up makin' Lucifer's acquaintance. Either way, I'm screwed.

Frost stoops to pick up the fallen cuffs an' turns towards the chopper. Kelly an' DaCosta have already climbed aboard an' the pilot is indicatin' his watch impatiently as Crowe taps me with the barrel of his pulse rifle just to remind me to behave myself an' then follows them aboard. Freed of the threat o' electrocution, I turn' an' toss Frost a cheery wave.

"Try not to miss me while I'm gone. An' make sure ya've got that serum to hand when I get back."

With that, I turn an' lope off into the night.

The helicopter lifts off behind me, the sound of its engine fadin' as it speeds away. I wait until I can no longer hear the chop of its rotors an' then check out my surroundings. Maybe I can figure out who they've sent me to ice while I wait for Control to clue me in.

So I'm standin' in a field. Not much of a clue there then. In the distance, maybe about four miles away, I can see a scatterin' o' street lights, so I must be near a town o' sorts. The air smells fresh an' unpolluted, betraying the absence of a big city anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Who the hell could have attracted the attention o' the Weapon X project out here? An' attracted it enough for 'em to want him dead?

The answers are slow in coming. Control remains strangely silent an' I figure it's time to give 'em a wake up call.

"Control? Are ya readin' me?"

"Loud and clear, Wolverine. Go ahead."

The voice is young, cheery an' refreshingly devoid o' the hatred that seems to categorize most o' the guards. Is this another o' Frost's disillusioned workers? Perhaps I'll ask him later.

"The chopper's gone, Control. Is there any danger o' me being given the name o' my target tonight, or do I have to play twenty questions?"

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Wolverine." _Ooh, I struck a nerve._

"It's all I've got going for me right now, Control, so yer gonna have to roll with it. Spill."

There's a moment's pause an' I can imagine Control rolling his eyes, not likin' my attitude. But being on the other end o' this com-unit is giving me the first feelin' o' control I've had in days an' I kinda like it.

"Your target's name is George Lacombe."

My face blanches white in the darkness an' I jerk to a stop, starin' at nothin'. "George Lacombe the Senator?"

"One and the same."

_Oh my god …._ "But he's pro-mutant. He's been lobbying against the Mutant Registration Act …."

"Which is why our client wants him taken out. It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it, Wolverine."

_Yeah, an' why did it haveta be me?_ 'Cause of all the men I've ever been called upon to put out of their misery, Senator Lacombe is the least deservin' o' death. He's a good man. Been speakin' out on behalf o' the mutant community for a number o' years now – he's even met the X-Men a time or two. Xavier attended one of his pro-mutant speeches a couple o' months back.

An' now Roberts wants _me _– one o' the X-Men – to take him out.

I know now why they gave me my fightin' uniform to wear …..

**oooOOOooo**

The house is silent an' dark, squattin' in the still o' the night like some sleepin' monster. I've been around it twice an' sussed out all the potential dangers. Cameras are posted every few feet along the walls, monitoring both the grounds an' all approaches. The front gate is alarmed an' rigged with touch sensitive sensors which similarly run along the tops o' the perimeter walls. A security guard is stationed at the gate an' three others are patrolling the grounds with dogs, but I've watched their movements an' I know I can evade them easily. Gettin' in ain't gonna be a problem. Gettin' out again with my hide intact may be another matter.

I hunker down behind a tree not far from my chosen point of entry, studyin' a schematic o' the house that is playin' across my visor. Lacombe an' his wife sleep in the master bedroom at the back o' the house, their two kids at the front. It should be an easy matter to get in without alertin' the kids, deal with the wife an' take out Lacombe. This fact doesn't sit well with me, but knowin' that Control can see every move I make doesn't leave me with many options. I can either take off into the night, die a horrible an' painful death an' leave Jubilee all alone in Roberts' clutches, or I can carry out my mission an' hate myself for the rest o' my life.

Not much of a choice, is it?

I cancel the house's floor plan with a shake o' my head an' stand, flexin' my fingers an' lettin' my claws slide slowly forwards until they're nudgin' the skin o' my knuckles. I can feel my heartrate rising – as it always does when I'm about to go into action – and, just for a moment, I experience a sudden rush o' anticipation an' elation. This is what I was born to do – to experience the thrill o' the hunt an' the triumph o' taking down one's prey. With my feral side more to the fore than I usually allow, this sense o' stalk an' pounce is heightened to the point that my head feels to be buzzin' with the intensity of it an' I allow a low growl to rumble in my chest, feelin' truly free for the first time in years. I may be about to do something distasteful, but the beast within is lookin' forward to the chance to flex his claws without being restrained.

"Wolverine? Something wrong?"

I break out of my reverie as Control's voice rings in my ears. He must have heard my growl an' registered my changing heartrate an' figured I was in a tight spot. I bite the growl off abruptly an' clench my fists in an effort to control my emotions as I formulate a response.

"Nothin' wrong, Control. I'm just about to go in."

"Copy that."

Inwardly berating my lack o' concentration, I stride purposefully towards the stretch o' wall I have chosen for my entry point. It looks no different to any other stretch o' the wall – same stone, same set o' sensors embedded in the top, same sheer climb. Its height would pose no barrier for a man o' my talents, but I have no intention o' scalin' it an' runnin' the risk o' settin' off the sensors. My objective is a large tree which has been allowed to grow far too near the perimeter wall an' poses a severe risk to security. Its branches provide a perfect bridge from one side o' the wall to the other an' I am only too happy to take full advantage o' this tactical oversight. In no time at all, I am dropping down onto an immaculately trimmed lawn surrounded by flower beds an' shrubs. The house beckons silently from the end of a gravelled drive.

Avoidin' the gravel like the plague – no sense in vaultin' over the wall only to give myself away with noisy footsteps – I make my way stealthily across the lawn, usin' the shrubs an' flower beds to cover me from the patrolling guards. I can be as silent as the night when I want to be, an' I encounter no opposition as I reach the house an' flatten myself against the wall. A quick glance to left an' right confirms the positions o' the guards on this side o' the house. The one on the left is just movin' into range from around the back o' the house, but has no clear view o' me due to the wavin' fronds of a large lobelia bush. The one on the right has just completed his circuit an' is swingin' around to retrace his steps, bringin' him alarmingly close to where I am pressed against the side o' the house like a human limpet. I am countin' on the guard's familiarity with the routine o' the job to make him careless an' sure enough he continues on his way without even glancin' my way. His dog, however, is not so negligent. Catching a whiff o' my scent, it barks once an' pulls back, growling, but the guard gives its lead an annoyed yank.

"Quit it, Tyson! Come away! Christ, I swear if those damn kids don't start keeping their cat in at night …."

What the guard will or will not do is lost to distance as he moves away, dragging the still growling dog along with him. Sendin' silent thanks to the god o' bored guards an' kids with pets in general, I let out the breath I had been holdin' an' turn to review my next move.

I sidle down the wall to the nearest window. A single claw makes short work o' the lock an' I climb through into a darkened study, not unlike the one at the mansion. I pad across the floor on silent feet, skilfully avoidin' a desk an' a couple o' chairs as I make my way to the door. Darkness holds no obstacles for me – I'm as at home in the night as I would be in the daylight. Probably more so, given my feral nature.

The study lets out into a wide hallway an' I am about to step into it when I hear a sharp sound from around the corner. I duck back into hiding, peerin' around the door an' raisin' my nose to the air, testin' for scents. I recognise the soothin' aroma o' herbal tea an' the lingerin' after-scent of a lady's perfume. Puttin' the clues together, I surmise that Lacombe's wife has had trouble sleepin' an' is lookin' for a remedy. Her presence downstairs both complicates an' simplifies things. It'll be easier for me to sneak into the bedroom undetected an' do what I have to do, but if she returns midway through the job an' raises the alarm I'll be forced to take drastic action. Once again, the thought doesn't sit well, but I'll do what I have to do in order to survive.

It's me or them.

Duckin' out o' the study, I trot along the hallway, my ears pickin' up the sound o' gentle hummin' as I pass the kitchen. Blissfully unaware o' my presence, Mrs Lacombe goes about her business as I make my way upstairs, zeroing in on the master bedroom with ease, thanks to the heads-up display provided by Control. The door has been left slightly ajar an' I slip inside the room, closin' it with a soft click behind me.

Inside, the light to the adjoining en-suite has been left on, providing gentle illumination to the main bedroom. A large hump in the bed betrays the presence o' Senator Lacombe an' I step forward, my mind now intent on only one thing; damage control.

"Hey, honey, back already?" The figure rolls over with a sleepy yawn an' I freeze. _Shit!_ I raise my fists as Lacombe sits up with a grunt of alarm.

"Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?"

I remain silent, regarding the answer as fairly obvious considerin' the circumstances. I'm not the Avon lady, that's for sure.

Lacombe's eyes widen in startled recognition. "Wait a minute. I know you! You're ….. you're one of the X-Men, aren't you? The one called ….. Wolverine." He gasps sharply as his intel comes rushing back to mind. "Oh my god. What have you done with my wife?"

"Yer wife's safe," I growl back, roughly. "Which is more than I can say fer you. People want you dead, Senator Lacombe."

Lacombe's face pales, visibly. "My god. I thought I recognised that visor. You've come to kill me, haven't you?"

"No, Senator, I've come to set you free." An' I unsheathe my claws, leapin' forward onto the bed as Lacombe scrabbles backwards furiously, tanglin' himself in the sheet.

"Die!" I howl, an' plunge my claws into the screamin' man's gut …..

**NEXT:** Oh my god! Has Wolverine really committed murder?


	23. From the Jaws of Death

Hello, everyone! Welcome to another chapter!

Once again, I am in my reviewers' debt! Many thanks to - **moviemom44, Comic-cake, desy, nileena, alexmonalisa, Mrstrentreznor, immiD, MidLifeCrisis, Masanya **and **pinkdrama! **Thank you for taking the time to leave a review and tell me what you are thinking!

And now, with no further ado, we continue our story ...!

**ooXoo**

**23. From the Jaws of Death**

**Wolverine:**

Lacombe doubles over my fist as it connects solidly with his stomach, only a faint grunt of surprise betraying his shock at _not_ finding himself writhing in agony on a lethal set of nine inch claws. Before he can say anything to alert Control's suspicions, I lean closer, snarlin' roughly into his ear.

"Die, dammit!"

Lacombe tenses an' then seems to get the message. Givin' a performance worthy of an Oscar, he groans an' actually manages a creditable death rattle as he slumps in my arms. As his 'body' grows heavy, I let it drop back down to the bed, unsheathin' my claws at exactly the same speed as I pull my hand away from his gut, givin' the impression that they are slidin' out of his body. I pull them back into my forearms quickly, before Control realises there's no blood on 'em, an' I flick a sheet over Lacombe for exactly the same reason. All I gotta do now is get outta here without alertin' Security an' hope that Lacombe takes the hint an' heads for the hills as soon as he can get house an' home together.

I turn to leave an' find myself face to face with Lacombe's wife.

She is standing in the doorway, a look of complete horror on her face as she takes in the sight of her husband lying 'dead' on the marital bed. But that ain't important – what _is_ important is the .44 Magnum she is aiming at my head.

"Bastard!" she spits at me.

I back off, knowin' there's nothin' I can say to her without blowin' the whole charade sky-high. Lacombe, for his part, is playin' the part of a recently deceased corpse extremely well, knowin' that his life, an' the lives of his family, depends on him not revealin' the cover-up, an' countin' on my healin' factor to save me if his wife shoots. I'd rather she didn't. It's a powerful gun – if she _does_ shoot an' catches me somewhere vital, I'll be down for the few minutes it takes me to heal. If she checks her husband durin' those few minutes an' finds him not dead …..

I can't allow that to happen. Not after all the trouble I've gone through to save Lacombe's life an' my sanity …

An' so I take the only course o' action left open to me …..

I dive for the window …..

She fires just seconds before I reach it, the slug hittin' me in the back o' the head an' pitchin' me forward an' through the toughened glass. My head is ringin' with the force o' the bullet an' my hands an' face are stingin' around the shards o' glass embedded in the flesh – I hadn't exactly planned on breakin' the window with my face. I think I black out on the way down 'cause the next thing I know the ground has come up to meet me an' I'm lying in a crumpled heap on top of a flattened bush. As I groan an' roll over, I catch a glimpse o' Lacombe's wife at the shattered window an' take another bullet to the back o' the leg before I get outta her sights. _Jesus!_ I'm tempted to go back up there an' smack some sense into the stupid bitch, but that's just my feral side talkin' an' I do my best to ignore it. The woman doesn't know I've just saved her husband's life an' she's only trying to protect her family – if I was in her place I'd do the same.

I obviously set the security alarms off when I bust through the window an' I can hear feet closin' in on me from several directions. Time to beat a hasty retreat unless I wanna answer a lot of very awkward questions.

Blottin' out the pain in my leg an' tryin' to ignore the persistant throb comin' from the back o' my head, I set off across the lawn in the direction o' the wall. If all had gone accordin' to plan, I woulda been headin' for the exit I sussed out earlier – a secluded place where I could get over the wall without settin' off the sensors, much like the tree I used on my way in. But with the alarms already blarin' out, the need for subtlety has passed an' now it's just gonna be an all-out dash for safety. Hardly the way I'd planned it, but when the shit hits the fan ya gotta be prepared to improvise.

I'm halfway to the wall when the dizziness hits an' I stumble forward, cursin' up a storm as I jar my leg painfully. By the time I have righted myself, my pursuers have gained ground an' I see the lead guy stoop to let his dog off the leash. I don't stick around to find out what happens next. I'm more than capable o' takin' on these guys _and_ their dogs, but I don't wanna hurt any of 'em – they're only doing their job when all's said an' done – an' the longer I stick around the more chance there is o' someone realisin' that Lacombe is still alive an' blurtin' it out for Control to hear. I don't fancy my chances with Roberts if that were to happen.

With the dogs snappin' at my heels, I cross the remainin' stretch o' lawn at a limpin' run an' throw myself at the wall, unsheathin' my claws an' anchorin' myself to the stonework. One o' the dogs jumps an' just misses my ankle as I haul myself upwards, its own claws scrabblin' ineffectually against the stone in its efforts to reach me. Snappin' an' snarlin', its companions move into flankin' positions, promisin' a whole world o' hurt if I should slip an' fall. I have no intention o' fallin' an' I soon make short work o' the dauntin' height in my haste to put distance between myself an' the guards. However, as I straddle the top an' prepare to vault over, another wave o' dizziness hits an' I sway dazedly, clutchin' at the stonework in an effort to keep my balance an' save myself from breakin' my fool neck on the unyieldin' ground below. The next thing I know, a slug whistles past my ear an' I realise the guards are catchin' up, threatenin' my chances o' makin' a 'clean' getaway. Shakin' my head to clear it, I swing my leg over the wall an' drop down, staggerin' as I hit the ground on the other side. My injured leg gives way beneath me an' I fling out a hand to save myself from going face first into the dirt, starin' at it stupidly as I realise I am still bleedin' from the wounds made by the passage o' my claws. _What the hell …..? They shoulda healed minutes ago, after I sheathed the claws. Why …..?_

With a sudden soul-stealin' feelin' o' dread, I tilt my arm to check out the aH-indicator Frost fitted me with.

Its digital read-out tells me I am ten minutes past my deadline …..

_Oh Jesus ….._ It took me longer to get here an' carry out the job than I thought. My healin' factor's already down an' the only thing that saved me from gettin' my brains blown out back there is my metal skull …..

The howlin' o' the dogs jolts me back to reality. I can hear their handlers gettin' 'em under control an' radioing for back-up. Not being able to get over the wall, they're gonna have to head for the main gate an' that should give me a few minute's head start. I intend to make full use of 'em.

I take off as fast as my injured leg will allow, tryin' to ignore the naggin' thought that I'm livin' on borrowed time. I'm sure I've been in worse fixes than this an' come out smilin' but, for the life o' me, I can't think of a single one at this time. My head is spinnin' an' my vision is beginnin' to blur – I don't know whether this is due to the C-serum or the bullet to the back o' my head, but I do know I gotta get to that damn chopper before my time runs out. The thought o' leavin' Jubilee alone in the hands of a madman drives my aching legs forward.

The dogs catch up to me as I cross a field on the outskirts o' town, the oncomin' dawn revealin' their wild eyes an' slaverin' mouths as they race towards me. I know now that I have no choice – I have to take 'em out regardless o' my feelings on the matter. With my healin' factor down, it's them or me.

Skiddin' to a halt on the soft turf, I turn an' flick my wrists to unsheathe my claws, knowin' that it's gonna hurt …..

An' nothin' happens …..

Bitin' back a curse, I repeat the action with the same result. My claws stubbornly refuse to deploy.

"Control!" I yell, instinctively knowin' that only my disembodied guide could have the power to countermand the mental impulses that unsheathe my claws. But he's either been cut off or he ain't listenin' 'cause my earpiece remains silent. _Christ, if this is all because he had to take a trip to the john …._

There's no more time. The three dogs leap for me as one, their combined weight bearin' me down to the ground an' pinnin' me there, their teeth clampin' onto my flailin' limbs with unfailing determination. My leather jacket absorbs most o' the damage an' I manage to knock one of 'em away, only for its place to be taken by another. Its breath is hot in my face as it goes for my throat an' I push it back, wincin' as its claws gouge deep furrows in my chest in its efforts to reach me. The other two both have their jaws clamped around an arm each, hampering my movement, stoppin' me from heaving 'em off an' gettin' to my feet. They're out for blood, their frantic snarlin' enragin' my own beast an' I howl right back at 'em, the instinct to dominate the pack surgin' to the fore o' my mind.

I'm fightin' a losin' battle an' I know it. My head is spinnin' – I can hardly see straight, thanks to the bullet to the back o' my head – an' I can feel the last o' my strength ebbing away as the C-serum an' blood loss take their toll. The dogs seem to sense their victory an' press forward for the kill, bitin' an' snappin' at whatever comes within reach. My only hope is for their handlers to catch up an' drag 'em off me, but I know I'm just graspin' at straws with that wish. Even with a wound to my leg, I outpaced 'em easily an' by the time they reach me, it'll be too late.

As the dogs tear me to pieces, my last thought is of Marie …..

**oooOOOooo**

**Rogue:**

"_**Noooooo!"**_

The nightmare hits without warning, pulling the scream from my lips before I can resister that I am safely in my bed and actually in no danger. With the last dreadful images rolling in my head, the nausea hits and I tumble from my bed, stumbling into the bathroom just in time to reach the toilet. As I heave the remains of my last meal into the bowl, I feel cool fingers hold my hair back from my face and a soft voice whispers in my ear.

"Chere? Y'okay, petite?"

Remy. I thought he'd have gone by now. I remember us talking into the early hours of the morning – I must have fallen asleep at some point and, judging by the evidence, been tucked into bed by Remy. That he then stayed on to watch over me is a complete surprise. Does this mean something? Am I reading more into this situation than actually exists?

I groan as another spasm assaults my stomach and Remy stands to run a washcloth under the tap, using it to cool my forehead. He's remarkably gentle and I lean into his touch, telling myself it's the coolness of the cloth I seek rather than contact with another human being.

"Y'feeling better, chere?" Remy is all calm professionalism and his tone is soothing. I nod my head slowly, fearing a resurgence of the nausea but my stomach seems to have settled. I rise shakily to my feet and Remy takes hold of my arm, just in case I keel over.

"Was it ….. was it de baby?" Remy seems strangely reluctant to mention the little life growing inside me and I wonder if he suspects who the father is. I don't think he's been at the mansion long enough to realise that me and Logan were an item and I'm surprised he hasn't asked. Besides Kitty and Dr McCoy, Remy is the only other person to know of my condition and all three have been sworn to secrecy. I don't want anyone raining down judgment on me until I've figured out what I'm going to do.

Remy is watching me with concern evident in his devilish eyes and I realise I still haven't answered his question – any of them. I smile up at him in what I hope is an encouraging fashion.

"Ah'm okay, Remy. Thanks. Ah ….. ah had a nightmare. It was ….." I falter, unable to find words to voice those dreadful visions of the night – teeth tearing at flesh, blood ….. pain. I take a calming breath. "It scared me," I finish lamely, and leave it at that. "What time is it?" _Time to change the subject, that's what time it is._

"Almost dawn." Remy begins to lead me back into the bedroom. "You've only been asleep for a couple of hours, chere. Y'ought to go back to bed."

"No!" The word comes out a little harsher than I intended and I pat his arm in apology. "Ah'm sorry. Ah'm a little tightly wound right now. But ah don't want to go back to sleep. Ah might ….."

The words die on my tongue. I want to say that I might dream again – go back into the nightmare – but I can't bring myself to say it, as if by putting it into words I might summon those dreadful images back to mind. Thankfully, Remy seems to understand and he goes to sit in my favourite chair by the window as I open a drawer to my dresser and begin rummaging around for clean underwear. I fell asleep in my clothes again and I look a crumpled mess – my hair is sticking out at all angles. God knows why Remy is still here – he should have run screaming for the hills by now.

These Cajuns are obviously made of strong stuff.

Armed now with some clean clothes, I trot back into the bathroom and begin to change. I leave the door open – I can't bear the thought of being cut off from company and Remy's presence is reassuring. When I return to the bedroom, freshly showered and feeling more human that I have done in days – despite the nightmare – I find Remy still waiting for me, idly flipping a playing card over the back of his hand. I'm also surprised to discover that I'm hungry, which is hardly a revelation considering that I've barely eaten a thing in the past few days. My stomach growls loudly at the thought of food. I know this seems like a cliché, but my body has to provide for two now and maybe that's why I'm so hungry. Time to hit the kitchen before the morning rush starts.

Once again, Remy is happy to accompany me and we make our way in silence down to the ground floor. We make a strange pair – me in jeans and a Nickelback T-shirt and Remy still in his going out finery, crumpled now after I cried all over him last night and from spending the next few hours curled up in my chair. At this hour, the mansion is still silent – we still have a few hours' solitude until Storm makes her morning rounds – so we have the kitchen to ourselves. I set about brewing a pot of coffee while Remy proves he can cook by scrambling eggs and making toast. In just a few short minutes, we are enjoying a fairly creditable breakfast and nothing has been broken.

For a while we eat in silence, but I can see Remy has something on his mind and it's not long before he can contain himself no longer.

He puts down his fork and I brace myself for whatever he has to say.

"Your … your baby, chere. Who is de father?"

Well, I can't say I hadn't been expecting that. Didn't I just say so, earlier? I guess he's been biding his time, waiting for me to feel more at ease but, even so, this doesn't mean that I know how to answer him. Or whether I should.

Remy takes my silence as a good sign and decides to press the matter further. "It's de Wolverine's. Isn't it?"

I nod, slowly. Where is this leading, I wonder? I don't have to wait long to find out.

"Remy t'ink you should abort de baby, chere. Now dat de Wolverine is no longer wit' us, perhaps you should t'ink about de perils o' being an unmarried mother. T'is only fitting ….."

He drifts off, becoming aware of my rapidly darkening features. I slam my fork down onto the table. "Abort? Ah'm not gonna abort! Ah'm keeping this baby, an' no one's gonna tell me otherwise, Remy LeBeau!"

_Whoa!_ Where the hell did that just come from? Because up until now, my thoughts on the matter have been about as set as mist on an autumn morning. I won't lie and say that I haven't considered abortion, because I have, but I guess all it needed was for someone to try and take the baby away from me to make me realise that I want this child more than life itself. I don't care what people say to try and convince me otherwise, but this little life growing inside me deserves a chance. A chance to survive and grow and love. And I'm not going to deprive him – her? – of it. He's all I've got now and he needs me as much as I need him.

Remy is gearing up for another protest and I reach out to cover his hand with mine, eager to show that there are no hard feelings.

"Ah'm sorry ah shouted, sugah, but ah've gotta keep this baby. Getting rid of him just wouldn't be ….. right."

Somehow my little lodger has become a 'he'. Gotta call him something, I suppose, and 'he' is better than 'it'. If he does turn out to be a boy, I'll call him Logan and when he's old enough I'll tell him all about his father – that he was the bravest and the most wonderful man who ever lived. Of course, if 'he's' a girl, I can't call her Logan, but she'll still be proud of her father. I'll make sure of that.

I wonder if he'll be feral …?

Remy takes my hand in his and pulls it to his lips. "Remy only be t'inking 'bout your welfare, chere. He didn't mean to cause offence."

I smile reassuringly at the repentant Cajun, probably the first time I've smiled and actually meant it in days. It feels strange on my face. "Ah understand, Remy. But you gotta understand that this baby is all ah've got … all ah've got left of Logan." I feel Remy squeeze my hand at this and I look into his eyes, willing him to see my side of this. "Logan and ah weren't together for very long, but in the time we had we loved a lifetime's worth. To abort this baby now would be like spitting on his grave, Remy. Ah have to go through with this and make his memory live on. So that his sacrifice wasn't in vain. Do you understand, Remy? Please say you do. It won't alter my decision either way, but it would be nice to know that I have someone on my side."

"Remy always on your side, chere." He smiles his most disarming smile and reaches into his pocket for a tissue, which he hands to me_. Geez, I hadn't realised I was crying!_ Is this a foretaste of things to come? Now that I'm pregnant, are my emotions going to be up and down more times than a whore's panties?

_Now that was a Logan thought if ever I've heard one!_ And right there and then I realise that his presence in my mind has come forward once more, reaching out to enfold my thoughts with his, almost as though he was protecting me. And that's exactly what he _is_ doing. Protecting me ….. and the baby.

Even from the grave, my lover is still looking out for me. Like he promised.

Remy waits for me to blow my nose and dry my eyes before reaching out to take my hand once more. "Remy understands, chere. And he'll stand by you no matter what happens. No one takes your baby while you're under Remy LeBeau's protection." And he moves from his chair to take the one next to mine, pulling my head into his shoulder and patting my back, comfortingly. My inner Logan growls at his audacity, but I shush him firmly, telling him in no uncertain terms that I need all the help I can get if I'm going to go through with this. Because I know that my decision will be opposed. I don't expect the Professor to side with me, and Jean and Scott will follow wherever the Professor leads. Kitty is firmly in my camp and I may be able to count on Dr McCoy's support too – his ethics as a doctor should prevent him from advocating spontaneous abortion. I can't be sure of anyone else, except perhaps Ororo. Logan grumbles about this for a while, but then falls silent as though mulling over possible battle plans, but every so often I hear him purr, as though the thought of 'us' having a baby has just re-occurred to him.

It gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

"Alright, time out, enough of the hugging and the mushy stuff." I push away from Remy's shoulder and make a valiant effort to regain my composure. God, my emotions are all over the place! Do I actually have to suffer this for nine months? I think I'll kill myself instead!

"Coffee's gone cold," Remy informs me, with a grin. "Remy make some more. You need somet'ing warm inside you."

As I watch the Cajun go about the business of brewing a fresh pot of coffee, I can feel myself unwinding – the tensed up nerves are releasing and letting go. And then it hits me!

If my baby is a girl, I'll call her Jubilee ….

**oooOOOooo**

"….And our major news story again – in an unprecedented attack, Senator George Lacombe was knifed to death last night in his sleep. His attacker, described as tall and dark, and wearing a biker's black leathers, escaped over the residence's ten foot high wall. Senator Lacombe's wife and children are said to be shaken but unharmed and have gone into mourning at an undisclosed location …."

Professor Xavier turned from the television as a quiet knock sounded on his study door. He quickly turned down the volume and wheeled out from behind his desk. "Come in, Henry."

The door immediately opened to admit Dr Henry McCoy, his leonine face split by a huge smile. Professor Xavier indicated to the television before he could speak. "I trust you've seen the news this morning, Henry?"

"Indeed I have, Professor!" Henry crossed the floor to stand triumphantly before the telepath's chair. "It is momentous news! It proves without a shadow of a doubt that Logan is still alive."

"Yes, it does, Henry. You are quite correct."

McCoy was slightly taken aback by the Professor's tone, but saw fit to ignore it. "I presume it's only a matter of time before we ascertain his location and mount a rescue?"

Xavier sighed, sadly. "That's just it, Henry. We're not going to mount a rescue."

"We're not?" McCoy blinked in surprise.

"No, Henry, we're not." Xavier indicated the television, which was now showing an aerial image of the Lacombe residence as shot from a helicopter. "Logan has killed. I fear he is too deeply under his captor's control to risk bringing him back into the fold."

"But Rogue …" protested McCoy, wringing his hands in despair. "She, of all people, deserve to know he is still alive."

"You will tell her nothing, Henry. Do you hear me? I will not risk raising her hopes only to dash them to the ground when we discover that the Wolverine is unredeemable." The Professor made a steeple of his fingers and studied McCoy over the top of them. "This is to be between you and I only, Henry. You will tell no one. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor, I understand." Henry turned away and walked slowly to the door, looking back as he reached it. "I understand all too well. However, it doesn't mean I have to agree with your decision ….."

Silence fell on McCoy's ultimatum as he closed the door behind him …..

**NEXT:** With Jubilee in danger, Victor pays a housecall!


	24. Truth Hurts, Love Denies

Hey, everyone! Welcome to another chapter!

Once again, many thanks to all who took the time and trouble to leave a review! I really do value your input, y'know, and it makes all my hard work feel worthwhile to know that you are all enjoying reading my stuff! Major kudos to - **Comic-cake, moviemom44, pepper-maroon, xmngrl, desy, Laudine, MidLifeCrisis, Sniktchick, Mrstrentreznor, notashamedtobesoilyfan, nileena, pinkdrama, jnetrich **and **alexmonalisa!**

There are one or two major revelations in this chapter, so I hope you've all got your detective heads on - there'll be a quiz later! Onward ...,.

**ooXoo**

**24. Truth Hurts****, Love Denies**

**Wolverine:**

_I'm not dead ….._

I can't be dead.

I'm sure o' that, because death could never hurt this bad. Every nerve I possess is screamin' in unbearable agony, every breath is a tortured gasp for survival. There's a heavy taste o' copper in my throat an' the scent o' blood is strong in my nostrils.

_I can't move ….._

Why can't I move? My arms feel like dead weights an' there's something heavy on top o' me. I can't summon the strength to push it off – just breathin' at all is takin' every ounce o' my willpower. My heart is beatin' so fast I swear it's gonna pound right outta my chest.

There's a sudden crack, like a gunshot. It sounds distant, but the thing on top o' me shifts an' I swear I can hear growlin'. I know it ain't me, 'cause there's an unpleasant rattlin' sound in my throat that echoes wetly in my ears when I cough. Then another gunshot – there's a sharp whine an' something thuds down onto the ground beside me. The weight on my chest has gone now but I still can't move an' the only thing I can hear is the sound o' my own laboured breathin' an' the frantic poundin' o' my heart. Too heavy to stay open of their own accord, my eyes begin to flutter closed …..

"Aw, Christ, what a mess! Help me get him in the chopper."

The voice sounds familiar, but pain distorts my clarity and I can't focus. I groan as strong hands take hold of me and begin to haul me up.

"Oh shit, Frost, he's still conscious! Jesus …..!"

"Look at his throat. How could any man live through that …..?"

I hear the sound o' someone retching nearby an' I wonder if I look as bad as I feel. The hands around me seem to become more considerate o' my condition, handlin' me gently while still conveyin' a sense o' urgency. Somehow, I manage to force my eyes open an' catch a fleetin' glimpse o' clouds an' blue sky before the lazily revolvin' rotors of a helicopter come into view.

" ….. _Rrrraahh …..?"_

"Shh, easy, Wolverine, don't try to talk. We'll have you fixed up in no time. Kelly, where's that god-damn serum? _Jesus …..!"_

"Here! It's here!"

I feel the press of a hypo against my neck an' imagine the life-givin' serum flowin' into my veins, restorin' my healin' factor. But it's too little, too late. As blood splatters from my mouth in a wet cough, my body begins to shake.

"Oh, Christ, he's seizing! Do something, Frost!"

"I'm trying, god-dammit! He's not responding! Give me that adrenalin hypo! Quick, man!"

I'm shakin' so hard I bite the end off my own tongue an' almost choke on the gory remains. Hands that were gentle are now frantically movin' over my body – clearin' my airways, injectin' me with all manner o' substances. Nothing's working. Why fight it? Darkness is beckoning an' it seems easier to just give up an' follow the light …..

_I think ….. I think I'm dying._ After all these years – after all the struggling an' the constant battle to hold onto my humanity, I'll finally have peace.

An' I wonder, will I dream of Marie? _I …. I'm sorry I failed you, darlin' ….._

"Oh, Christ, we're losing him! Jefferson, step on it! Doesn't this heap go any faster?"

Voices fade away to an indistinct murmur – the chop of the rotors becomes an annoying buzz. Blackness creeps in and, with a last gasping wheeze, the pain is gone …..

**oooOOOooo**

**Rogue:**

Well, I really can't say this is much fun at all. I've been pregnant for ….. what? ….. less than a week? ….. and I've spent more time in the bathroom than in any other room in the entire mansion. My little lodger is certainly making his presence known, just like his father used to do, bless him. But I swear if he has me staring into the bowl of this damn toilet for much longer he'll be so grounded when he finally makes an appearance that he'll be fifty before I let him leave his room.

Almost a week and so far my secret is safe. Kitty and Remy remain my only confidantes and Henry is keeping his eye on me from afar. He keeps looking as though he wants to talk to me about something but, in _this_ house, there's always someone close by and privacy is hard to come by. I suppose I could go to see him in the lab, but I don't want to run into Jean. I'm still not on speaking terms with either her or the Professor and I really don't want to put myself into a situation where I could do something I might not regret later. After all, just because I can touch and be touched now doesn't mean I no longer have my powers – they're still there, waiting, just below the surface.

All I have to do is turn them back on …..

I still can't believe I'm pregnant – I keep expecting Henry to jump out from behind a piece of furniture an' yell 'Surprise!' But this time the disbelief stems mainly from the 'Wow, I'm going to be a mother' variety, rather than the 'Argh, what am I gonna do?' kind of thing. It's the wonder of trying to get your head around the fact that there's a little life growing inside me – a real live little person who will grow up and have kids of his own some day. And he's all mine. Well, he's all mine and Logan's, to be precise, but now that his father is no longer with us I'll have to be both mom and dad for the little tyke. I hope I can live up to that responsibility. Although, something tells me that Remy would be more than happy to step into the paternal role. He's been extremely attentive lately – fetching my meals for me in the dining room, bringing me flowers – (he'll have to watch that, Storm's getting annoyed with her blooms being constantly vandalised) – and generally always hovering somewhere in the immediate vicinity. To be honest, it was nice at first, but now it's getting a tiny bit annoying. If he's not careful, folks will start to wonder what's wrong with me and it's only a short step from there to my secret being uncovered.

Last night, I stripped down to my bra and panties and stood in front of my full length mirror, trying to imagine myself with a huge tum, heavily pregnant. It feels strange to think that I'm gonna swell up like a balloon in a few month's time. Kitty says I won't be able to see my feet and that my ankles will swell and I'll waddle like a duck. I can't help thinking that with friends like Kitty I really have no need for enemies. I wonder if she'll also call me fatty and make fun of me when I can't get out of a chair without help? I must remember to teach my little Logan to bite her ankles when he's old enough to crawl.

It's funny, but when I was standing there studying my tummy, I could swear that I'm already developing a baby bulge. But that really can't be so, can it? After all, it's only been a few days since I found out I'm pregnant. No time at all really, is it?

I guess I'm only imagining it …..

**oooOOOooo**

**Wolverine:**

Consciousness returns with a reawakening of the recent horrors I've endured – the crack of a bullet against the back o' my head, the desperation o' knowin' my time has run out ….. an' the howlin' o' the dogs as they rip my throat out. That I can recall these things at all means that I am still alive – once again I've cheated death, albeit with the timely intervention o' my handler an' his team.

For a moment, I lie still, allowing myself to adjust to my surroundings an' feigning sleep so as not to give myself away in case I am in a compromising position. My senses feel fuzzy an' muted, betrayin' the fact that I am back in my cell. Why I've been allowed to recover here an' not in the lab I awoke in when I was originally brought in is a question that will have to wait until later to be answered. Because I can sense I am not alone. Two people are in here with me. Both scents are instantly recognisable.

One belongs to Jubilee.

The other?

_Victor …_

My initial instinct is to confront the other feral with all guns blazin', but the cub smells relaxed an' seems to be in no immediate danger, so I temper my reaction accordingly.

Opening my eyes, I tilt my head to find them both sittin' against the far wall, talkin' together in soft tones. Jubilee is cross-legged an' has her back to me, but Victor is leanin' against the wall with his legs stretched out before him, exuding the air o' one who is comfortable with his surroundings. His eyes are fixed onto mine an' I realise that his own senses must have alerted him of my return to consciousness immediately.

The bed creaks slightly as I raise myself up onto one elbow an' Jubilee jerks around, immediately rushin' to my side an' placin' a cool hand to my forehead.

"Oh god, Wolvie, you're okay! I've been so worried ….."

I push her hand away an' swing my legs over the side o' the bed, stifling a groan at the stiffness in my muscles. After extensive healin', my body is always slightly unresponsive for a while, but Victor is watchin' me the way a cat might watch a canary an' for some reason I don't want to betray my weakness.

"How long was I out?" My voice sounds rough even to my own ears. I could murder a drink, but I don't wanna trust my legs to the journey to the sink.

Jubilee, bless her, seems to read my mind an' brings me a plastic cup full o' blessedly cool water. The cup is a new addition to the 'comforts' of our cell, an' I wonder who our benefactor is.

"You've been dead to the world for a couple of days," she tells me, as I drain the cup an' hand it back to her. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been chewed up an' spit back out." The words are probably as close to the truth as I'll ever get. Victor snorts as though he finds this amusin'.

"Hungry?" asks Jubilee.

I nod. "Starvin'." I reply, honestly. I've obviously been in a healin' coma to feel this hungry. My body needs replenishing – an' soon, before I keel over again. An' real food too – none o' that slop they've been feedin' us since we got here. That stuff ain't fit for animals.

Strangely, Jubilee turns to look at Victor. The feral grins at me an' gets slowly to his feet, pickin' up a plastic food container from the floor beside him. He takes his time in crossin' the small span o' floor that separates us.

"Figured ya might be makin' a return to the land o' the livin' some time today," he informs me with a flash o' milky white canine. "Good thing I decided to steal this from the canteen, huh?"

He tosses the container onto my lap an' steps back, standin' next to Jubilee. Narrowing my eyes suspiciously at the pair of 'em, I open the container an' bite back my moan o' pure longing just in time to avoid embarrassing myself as the aroma o' roast turkey assaults my nostrils. Even with my senses muted, my mouth waters, expectantly. Snatchin' up one o' the legs, I bite into it with a growl, heedless o' the juices runnin' down my chin.

Victor clicks his tongue, appreciatively. "Attaboy, Jimmy. Eat it all up now. Growing boy like him needs his energy, y'know," he adds in an aside to Jubilee.

I raise an eyebrow as he drops a hand onto the cub's shoulder an' squeezes. To my surprise, she doesn't move away or even slap his hand off or do a dozen other things I would expect her to do right now. Instead, she smiles up at him an' Victor winks back.

"What the hell's going on?" I spit out a piece o' turkey bone an' glare at the other feral, my hackles rising. Victor glares right back, his lips pullin' back as a low growl rumbles in his chest. This ain't good. Two Alpha males facin' off against each other is bound to end badly.

Even if we _are_ supposed to be related …..

Jubilee pulls away from Victor's grasp, catchin' my brother's attention. No words are said, but he seems to pick up on her intent an' shakes his head at me.

"The story ain't mine to tell, Jimmy. Ya gotta ask yer cub." He begins to stalk towards the cell door which, I notice for the first time, is standin' wide open. "I gotta run now, kiddies. Duty calls an' all that shit." He turns at the door an' flicks me a salute. "Play nicely with the army types now, Jimmy. They saved yer life, y'know."

He closes the door an' locks it, disappearing down the hallway. I stare after him until long after his footsteps have receded an' then turn my attention to Jubilee, who is fidgeting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Care to tell me what's been going on?" My voice is soft, but my tone tells the cub that I expect an answer. She hesitates a moment then reaches forward into my food container for a turkey leg, removing the remains o' the first one from my hand an' replacin' it with the whole one. I bite into it as she hunkers down on the floor beside my legs.

"It's not a pretty story, Wolvie," she admits, slowly. "To begin with, haven't you wondered why your mission went tits up at the end?"

"Yeah, I've wondered." I excuse the cub her language for the sake o' the narrative. "Go on."

"Well ….." Her gaze seems to turn inward an' I can tell she is recallin' a memory – a memory that causes some obvious discomfort, if her shudder is anything to go by.

"There's no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just come right out and get it over with." The cub steals herself visibly, forcing herself to look me in the eye. "While you were away, Bonebreaker came in here and tried to ….. force himself on me."

The snarl that erupts from my lips almost drowns out her last words. The turkey leg is tossed, forgotten, to the bed an' I ball my hands into fists – or at least as best I can around the metal cuffs which have made a re-appearance.

Jubilee smiles up at me, ruefully, an' places a hand over one o' mine. She doesn't seem at all fazed by my reaction, but I'm guessin' she's seen it all before an' knows my hands are tied. There's not much I can do to Bonebreaker locked in here, but if I ever get him alone I'll rip his guts out an' feed 'em back to him.

"Don't cut yourself up about it, Wolvie," Jubilee tells me, seriously. "It wasn't your fault – you weren't here. But you would have been proud of me, y'know." Here, she draws herself up a little straighter an' her eyes take on a mischievous glint. "I didn't panic, an' I remembered my training. I fought like a tiger – if he was going to rape me he was going to have to work for it. I actually managed to knee him in the balls. He didn't like that." I give a snort of approval an' amusement an' reach out to touch the cub's face, mindful o' the cuffs an' movin' real slow an' careful. Jubilee drops her eyes. "But he was too strong for me in the end an' he forced me down to the floor an' began to rip at my clothing." I can see now that her top bears the signs o' rough handlin' an' I growl again, venting my anguish at not being there to protect her. "I thought I was done for, Wolvie. I thought he was going to rape me right there and then. He had it out an' everything. And then ….. and then something came barrelling through the door, howling like a madman. Bonebreaker was yanked off me, and there was blood and yelling – I thought it was you, Wolvie, come to save me."

Jubilee looks back up at me an' I can see the realisation of her timely rescue reflected in her eyes. "But it was Victor."

_Victor? What the hell …?_

"He told me later that someone had found your Controller unconscious on the floor of his operations room. It looked as though he'd slipped on a puddle of spilt coffee and cracked his head on the side of a desk, but Victor was suspicious – your Controller doesn't drink coffee. So he came down to check on me and was just in time to drag Bonebreaker off me." Jubilee absently picks up my discarded turkey leg an' drops it into the container, smoothing the grease stain left on the blanket with hesitant fingers. "It was Victor who had you moved here from the lab when he was sure you were out of danger. He figured you wouldn't like to wake up there. He's been checking on us both ever since, making sure that I was safe and keeping an eye on your wounds. He seemed to suspect that it was likely you'd be coming out of your coma today and he knew you'd need to eat." She indicates the container still almost full of turkey

What Victor has done for both myself an' my cub shocks me to the core, but one thing is uppermost in my mind. Later, I will remember my brother's actions and try to understand what they mean but, for now, I can think only of Jubilee.

"I'm sorry," I rasp, reaching out to pull her to me in an awkward hug. "I ….. I should have been here for you, god-dammit. You shouldn't have to rely on another Alpha for your protection."

"Shh, Wolvie, it's okay. Bonebreaker didn't get the chance to hurt me." Her hand on my back is slowly moving up an' down, stroking an' soothing, an' I realise with a jolt that our roles have reversed – she actually thinks that I am the one who needs reassuring. I am about to set the cub straight on this matter when understanding dawns – she needs this ….. she needs to feel that she is in control, that she can conquer her demons. I am not so insensitive as to not know this is a defining moment in her life an' so I allow my growl to die away until it's nothin' more than a soothin' vibration in my chest.

"The next time I see that Bonebreaker guy, I hope he's still limpin'," I declare roughly, an' have the satisfaction o' hearin' the cub giggle against my chest.

Jubilee pulls away an' quickly stands, adjustin' her clothes self-consciously. "Look at us, Wolvie, getting all close an' cuddly. If Rogue could see us now, she'd take my head off!"

Her words steal away the tiny amount o' good humour I have managed to cultivate in the last few minutes, an' I look away, not wanting the cub to see my discomfort as a ragged sigh puffs past my lips.

Jubilee, however, is more astute than I give her credit for. Her hand flies to cover her mouth in shock. "Oh, Wolvie, I'm sorry! I didn't mean ….."

"S'okay, Jubilee." I pick up a turkey leg, tryin' to feign interest in the meat, but it tastes like ashes in my mouth. My stomach is cryin' out for protein after my healin' coma has done its work, yet each swallow sticks in my throat an' I resist the urge to throw up. _Jesus, what's wrong with me …..?_

No, wait. Scratch that. I know exactly what's wrong with me an' no amount o' turkey's gonna make it better. I can deny the truth until I'm blue in the face an' the cows come home, but there's no denying the evidence laid out before me – I'm missing my mate. Once bonded, a mated pair will _never_ leave each other, no matter what happens. Only death can break the connection between them, an' only then will the survivor take another mate, if he or she so desires. This imposed captivity an' separation from my mate is un-natural – my body is tellin' me in the only way it knows how that it needs its other half's presence.

Well, shit, there ain't no way I can rectify that dilemma anytime soon – least not unless I can figure out a way outta here. An' for that I'm gonna need a plan an' a whole lot o' luck.

Jubilee senses that I need to be alone an' moves to the door, peerin' out into the empty hallway beyond the bars, tryin' to give me some privacy to grieve. Short o' crawlin' beneath the bed, there ain't a whole lot o' ways she can make me feel as though I am alone but nevertheless I appreciate her gesture.

I manage to force down my meal an' make inroads on another leg, takin' the time to check myself out as I go. My body is fully healed, albeit a little stiff, but that's only to be expected considerin' that I've obviously had extensive muscle damage. My headgear is gone, likewise the tattered remains o' my uniform an' I am now wearin' my jeans an' shirt. No sign o' my boots though. I'm barefoot an' the floor is cold beneath my feet. Must remember to ask Frost for my boots' return – especially if they're gonna send me out on further missions. Wouldn't want to stub a toe now, would I?

Memory o' that ill-fated night brings Lacombe to mind an' I hope he got my not-so-subtle hint an' got the hell outta Dodge. I'd hate to think I went to all that god-damn trouble an' sufferin' just so the stupid fucker could walk into his office the next day an' demand his right to know who tried to have him iced. The fact that I'm back in my cell an' not bound to a wall somewhere with a pulse rifle stickin' in my ear an' questions being asked bodes well for his understandin' an' I hope he has the sense to stay put an' lay low until all this blows over.

Whenever that may be …..

Jubilee suddenly hisses an' turns away from the door, attractin' my attention. If it's Bonebreaker come to take her again, I'll give him more than just a knee to his balls …..

"What is it?" I growl, gettin' to my feet an' preparin' for trouble.

The cub gestures out into the hallway. "There's somebody moving about in the cell across the way."

I move instantly to her side, pressin' my face to the bars in order to give myself the best possible view o' the cell at the other side o' the hallway. It's impossible to see in, but I can clearly see the shadow that passes over the wall every few seconds as someone within paces up an' down.

"Hey!" I yell. "You in the cell. Can you hear me?" After Victor's veiled hints as to the identity o' the other prisoner, I'm in a mood to get some answers.

There's a moment's pause an' then the boy appears, wrappin' his hands around the bars as he strains to see me. He looks okay, but there's an air o' desperation about him an' he's sportin' a fresh black eye.

"Who are you?" he calls back.

"Name's Logan. This is Jubilee. We're X-Men."

My admission is meant to reassure – to give him some hope that superior fire-power will eventually win out an' get us outta here – but he sinks to the floor of his cell, holdin' his head in his hands. "Oh god, no. Please no ….."

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" I toss Jubilee a puzzled glance an' shift slightly to keep the boy in my line of sight. "Hey! What's your name?"

The boy uncoils, makin' a great effort out o' standin' once more, although he weaves slightly as though in shock. "My name?"

"Yeah, sure. You do have one, don't you?" Jubilee is spiralling a finger at the side of her head an' I lower my eyebrows at her. "Cut it out."

"He's crackers," the cub mouths at me. "Totally bonkers."

I'm not so convinced o' that. He seems perfectly sane to me, but something is screwy here an' it ain't the kid.

"Come on, I ain't got all day," I shout down the hallway. If the guards are watchin' their monitors, as I'm sure they are else why have 'em fitted, they ain't gonna be too pleased to see two o' their 'pets' passin' the time o' day. It ain't gonna be long before they make an appearance an' put a stop to this.

"My name?" The kid repeats himself an' Jubilee makes an 'I rest my case' gesture. "I'll tell you my name, Logan of the X-Men, but you're not gonna like it." He begins to laugh, a chilling sound that makes the hair on the back o' my neck stand up. It's the sound of a man who knows that all hope is completely an' irrevocably gone.

"My name ….. my name is Alex Summers."

**NEXT: **The truth dawns …. and Wolverine gets his reward!


	25. The Ties That Bind

Hello, everyone! Another week, another chapter! This one kinda ran away with me as I wrote it and if it offends anyone I am truly sorry. Be warned, worse is yet to come.

Once again, I am in my readers' debt for clicking that little button at the bottom of the page! Many thanks to - **moviemom44, Comic-cake, nileena, Laudine, Sniktchick, desy, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Mrstrentreznor, alexmonalisa **and** pinkdrama! **You're the greatest, guys!

And as the drama deepens, it's time to look in on Wolvie and his sidekick once more - onward, my friends!

**oooXoo**

**25****. The Ties That Bind**

"I just can't believe it. I mean, I didn't know Mr Summers even _had_ a brother."

Jubilee, hunkered down against the opposite wall, snorts in disgust. "Geez, this is doing my head in! I wish I had some gum."

"Thank god ya don't," I retort back. That constant popping noise would have me climbin' the walls an' I'm in a bad enough mood as it is. To temper my annoyance, I lean back against the wall an' pick up a half eaten turkey leg from the container beside me on the bed, determined to get some food inside me no matter how shitty I feel. Jubilee glowers across the cell at me an' I do my best to ignore her. Cubs oughta be seen an' not heard. They should also respect their elders, but this one seems to have her own interpretation o' that.

"You're a grumpy bastard when you've just come out of a healing coma," she tells me, frankly. "I seem to remember you getting all growly when me an' Kitty brought you a sandwich after you'd been shot."

I almost choke on a mouthful o' turkey. "Christ, Jubilee, ya almost did me a permanent damage that night. What did ya expect?"

"A little bit of gratitude would have been nice."

I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't try to kill you, did I?"

"No ….. but ….."

"Well then. Be grateful fer that. Others have suffered worse fates fer less."

Jubilee snorts defiantly an' turns away, glarin' out o' the cell door, her face gradually softening as she remembers the kid across the hall. Twenty minutes have passed since the guards showed up, puttin' an end to our conversation as I expected they would by brandishing pulse rifles an' threatening to use 'em unless me an' Jubes moved away from the cell door. We were happy to oblige, raising our hands to show that we weren't gonna cause any trouble, an' the guards covered our cell while two guys I hadn't seen before – probably the kid's personal handlers - went into his cell an' dragged him off. I've been hoping that he hasn't been taken away to be punished for talking to us. He didn't have time to say much, an' I've figured out the rest for myself since the guards left anyway but, knowing Roberts an' his profound lack o' mercy, the kid's probably suffering right now for those few short moments o' contact.

"So how did you know?"

Jubilee's voice jolts me back to the present. "Know what, darlin'?"

"That Scott had a brother?"

"Jean told me." I sigh softly, lettin' my mind wander back to that day under the maple tree in the Japanese garden. I'd taken my katana there to practise the forms in peace an' solitude. Somehow Jean found out an' came to watch an' aroused by her nearby scent I ended up flirtin' with her. Nothin' serious, o' course. I'd do it more to wind Scooter up than for any honest chance o' gettin' into her pants an' I enjoyed the challenge. People often forget that stalkin' a worthy female is part of a feral's nature – challenging a rival Alpha even more so. It's what we do – what _I_ do. I can no more change how I act than a leopard can change its spots.

Anyway, Jean seemed to sense my intent and, as she was want to do whenever I tried to steal a kiss, she proceeded to tell me how much she loved Scott an' extol his virtues, an idea I found laughable an' told her so. Usually Jean would back off at this point with a gentle smile an' an admonition to quit riding her fiancé, but somehow we ended up sitting on a bench under the Japanese maple, me wearing nothing but a pair o' shorts an' with a shining katana restin' easily across my knees, an' Jean's eyes glowin' with pride an' love as she told me all about her hopes an' plans for the future. I learned more about the X-Men's Alpha pair in one afternoon than I'd learned in every single day o' my time at the mansion up to that point. It was the first time I'd ever paid attention to her as a person an' not as simply a woman I wanted to steal a night o' passion with, an' her honesty an' vision took me by surprise.

That very night, Marie came to my bed an' tried to seduce me …..

My thoughts now take a dramatic turn an' begin to follow the near disastrous turn of events that shaped the genesis of my soon-to-be relationship with Marie. I am visited by a profound sense o' longing as I recall our first coupling out by the lake following our heartrending declaration o' love for each other an' I heave a ragged sigh, suddenly becomin' aware that Jubilee is watchin' me an' still waitin' for an answer to her question. I clear my throat roughly an' try to pretend I have been distracted by a piece o' meat caught between my teeth. Christ, am I doomed to spend the rest o' my captive life being haunted by memories o' my mate? Will every thought remind me o' her?

"Yeah, Jean told me all about him," I repeat, tryin' to act casual an' suspecting that I am failing miserably.

To her credit, Jubilee pretends not to notice that anything is amiss. "So what happened?" she asks. "Why isn't Alex at the school with Mr Summers?"

I cast my mind back to Jean's words. "Apparently there was a 'plane crash when Scooter an' his brother were kids," I explain. "The boys survived, but their parents were killed an' Scott an' his brother were put into care. Somewhere along the line, they were separated an' they lost contact. An' then Scott's powers manifested an' he ended up at Xavier's an' I guess findin' his brother took a back seat to suddenly becoming public enemy number one practically overnight."

It's a sad fact that mutants are not universally held in high regard. Most, like myself, look human enough to blend in. Some, like the Beast an' Nightcrawler, have physical mutations that they can't hide, and are hounded from one place to another, never forming attachments an' always watchin' their backs. The lucky ones end up at Xavier's, where they are given the chance to use their 'gifts' for the good of mankind – not that some humans deserve the honour. Those not so fortunate end up livin' in an alley, tryin' to eke a livin' from bins an' handouts. If they're really lucky they'll die before unscrupulous organisations like the Weapon X project get their hands on 'em. This may sound harsh, but I've been there an' believe me I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Like I've said before, if there's even the slightest chance that me an' Jubilee won't make it outta here alive, I'll do her myself, quick an' painless. Sooner or later, they're gonna figure out a use for her an' there's no way I'm gonna let her go through that kinda hell for the rest of her life.

The cub in question is still thinking over my final words, her brow creased into a frown. "So Roberts was using Alex to blackmail Mr Summers into giving you up," she finally speculates.

"I guess so."

"How does that make you feel?"

The question surprises me, but I answer her honestly. "Like I wanna kill someone."

"Mr Summers?"

"No." I shake my head in the negative. "Scooter may be a prick, but no man deserves to have his family used against him. It's a low blow, an' it ain't right."

Jubilee nods slowly in understanding. "So who then?"

I can't hold back the growl that forms on my lips. "Everybody," I snarl. "I'll take out the whole god-damn outfit if I can."

The cub considers this for a moment an' inclines her head. "I'll help," she declares, solemnly.

I don't argue. The kid has earned her right for blood. I doubt I could stop her if I tried, an' with that our pact is sealed.

I toss the remains o' the turkey leg into the container an' begin reaching for another, but pause mid-action, an' idea beginning to form in my head. Pickin' up the stripped bone once more, I begin to worry at it with my teeth …..

**oooOOOooo**

My handler comes for me in the middle o' the night. God knows when these people sleep – they seem to take a perverse delight in makin' sure _I_ don't. He is accompanied by familiar cohorts Kelly an' DaCosta, an' a guy I haven't seen before, who seems to find the whole situation highly amusing, if his foolish grin is anything to go by. I get the uncomfortable impression that he knows something I don't, an' I am immediately on my guard, although I do my best not to telegraph this. If something's gonna happen, it's best to let 'em think they've got me on the hop.

Jubilee sits up on the bed an' watches silently as Frost readies my dose of aH-serum, while Kelly covers us both half-heartedly with his pulse rifle. I smile inwardly to myself, recognising the classic signs of a complacent guard. The more I can lull 'em all into a false sense o' security, the easier it will be for me an' Jubes to make our move when the time comes.

I'm feelin' peevish at being roused from my sleep an' I growl as Frost presses the hypo to my neck, sendin' its contents coursing into my blood-stream. DaCosta tells me to 'quit it' with a flick of his rifle – _you should be grateful we're savin' your life,_ he tells me. I could point out that my life wouldn't need savin' if they hadn't injected me with the C-serum in the first place, but why bother? The sooner they're finished, the sooner I can return to my sleep.

I expect 'em to leave when Frost has finished packin' away the hypo, but instead he produces the remote which magnetises my cuffs. My suspicions duly go up a notch.

"We going somewhere?" I growl in a low but menacing voice.

Frost looks as though he doesn't know whether he should be pleased with the information he has to impart or not. "Your kill has been confirmed, Wolverine," he tells me, slowly. "Roberts promised you a reward if you were successful in your mission – he intends to fulfil that promise."

"What kind o' reward?" I ask, as my cuffs click together in front o' me. Call me paranoid if you will, but Roberts don't exactly strike me as the kinda guy to shower his captives with gifts.

The new guy laughs, a little too loudly. "Oh, you're gonna love this, feral," he tells me, an' winks obscenely at Jubilee. She sticks a finger up at him an' I pull back my lips an' show him my teeth. Something about this guy rubs me up the wrong way – makes me wanna spring for him an' rip his throat out.

I'll put it on my to-do list.

Frost tosses the new guy a look that momentarily wipes the silly grin off his face. "Quit riling him, Farrell, or I'll let you find out first hand what an ornery bastard a feral can be when he's pissed at you. Remember Lewis?"

I remember Lewis well. His ear went down a treat. Coulda done with a beer chaser though.

Farrell nods slowly, an' me an' Jubilee exchange glances. As Frost turns back to us, he removes a blindfold from his pocket. "Now I'm going to put this on you, Wolverine, and ….."

My snarl sends him rocking back a step, where he gulps audibly. "Well ….. er ….. um ….. _Jubilee_ is gonna put this on you, Wolverine, and then we'll get going."

He hands the blindfold to the cub an' I stand still as she fastens it over my eyes, allowing a soft purr to voice my approval o' this. Frost may be the good guy, but that don't mean I gotta roll over an' have my ears fondled every time he enters the damn cell.

"Where are we going?" I ask, as Jubilee squeezes my shoulder to tell me she's done. "I don't want the cub to be left alone."

"She won't be alone."

I tilt my head in the direction of the newcomer, recognising the voice instantly. _Victor ….._ The bed creaks as Jubilee gets off it an' I follow her footsteps across the cell as she goes to stand by his side. I hear her gentle word of greeting ….. an' then a sound that tenses my shoulders an' brings a snarl to my lips – the sound of a kiss being pressed to the top of her head.

_What the fuck is going on …..?_

"Victor …." I growl an' shoulder my way forward, instantly meeting resistance in the form of Kelly an' DaCosta. The barrel o' Kelly's pulse rifle being poked in my chest should have brought me to my senses, but all I can think about is reachin' my brother an' kickin' the shit outta him.

"Wolvie! Wolvie, it's okay!" The cub's soft hands on my face jolt me out of my rage an' I tilt my head downwards to where I know she is standin'. "What the hell's going on?" I growl, roughly.

"S'okay, Wolvie, it's just Victor's way of saying hello. He didn't mean anything by it." The cub sounds sincere, but I can't help thinkin' that I'm missing something. Since when did the firecracker allow bucks to slobber all over her?

"Calm down, Jimmy, ya wouldn't wanna blow a fuse before your big outing now, would ya?" I hear a rustle o' clothing as Victor leans back against the wall, no doubt foldin' his arms in that Alpha macho pose o' his, an' I scowl in that general direction.

"Victor, if you hurt her, so help me, I'll ….."

"I'm not gonna hurt the kid, Jimmy. Christ, the way you're acting anyone would think I was the bad guy, or something. Ain't ya ever kissed a woman in greeting before, Jimmy?"

I'm about to hurl back a response, but shut my mouth with a click o' my teeth when I realise he's got me cornered. I've kissed plenty o' women – sometimes in innocence an' sometimes not – but something's going on here an' I can't quite put my finger on it.

I growl in frustration an' downright meanness.

"Come on, Wolverine, we gotta get you moving." Frost puts his hand on my arm an' I allow him to lead me from the cell. At the door, I balk an' turn back.

"One hair on her head, Creed," I growl in warning. "That's all it takes."

Victor snorts in response. I wanna say more, but a rifle barrel in the small o' my back prompts me to move. The sound o' the cell door closin' behind me rings with a stark finality in my ears, an' I startle when Frost's voice invades my personal rage.

"She'll be okay with Victor, Wolverine. I don't think he means her any harm. She seems to be good for him – he seems ….. quieter when he's with her."

_Now where have I heard that before?_ Concern for the cub's welfare clouds my judgement – I ain't thinkin' clearly an' I almost trip over my own feet as we head for the elevator at the end of the hallway. Frost's quick thinkin' and a grab for my arm saves me from pitchin' forward an' landin' on my face.

As before I am guided by Kelly an' DaCosta, with Frost in front an' Farrell bringin' up the rear. Our ride in the elevator is relatively short – we only seem to go up a single level before abandoning its sterile closeness for a hallway that sounds exactly like the one we just left. We stop about a third of the way down an' I hear the sound of a door being unlocked.

_Am I being moved?_ I dismiss this thought almost as soon as it occurs to me. Frost would have told me if me an' the cub were being separated, I'm sure of it. He seems a decent sort an' not inclined to withhold information as long as it don't jeopardise his standing with Roberts. But it's obvious we're still in the cell block. What's going on?

My handler removes the blindfold an' I get the first glimpse o' my surroundings. I'm standin' in the open doorway of a cell that is virtually identical to my own, apart from the addition of a worn tree stump positioned in one corner. It looks as though something akin to a tiger has been scratchin' at it. I turn to the men behind me with confusion in my eyes, only to find Farrell grinning at me like a loon.

He makes a lewd gesture with his hips an' one hand, laughing in my face. "Give 'er one for me, feral."

"What the hell …..?" I try to push back outta the doorway, but my cuffs de-magnetise an' a sharp shove to my shoulder blades sends me sprawling into the cell. The door slams shut behind me with a finality that is as disturbing as it is decisive.

Farrell salutes me through the bars, then he an' the others take their leave, Frost givin' me a last lingerin' look before followin' along behind. His expression seems almost apologetic an' the hackles rise on the back o' my neck as I am left alone.

Alone …..

Or am I?

A soft whimper draws my attention to the rear o' the cell. I get to my feet slowly, shifting position slightly so that I can see into the far corner o' the room.

An' that's when I see the girl …..

She's crammed into the tiny space between the toilet an' the wall, knees drawn up an' her arms wrapped around them, tightly. There isn't much room for manoeuvring, but somehow she forces herself further back when she realises her hiding place has been compromised.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpers.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'. I sink slowly back down to the floor, restin' on my haunches an' tryin' to appear as non-threatening as possible. "I'll just sit here, see? I'm not gonna hurt you."

The girl watches me warily over the tops of her knees an' I can see that she's young – not more'n seventeen or so. She's naked – her knees coverin' her modesty as well as givin' her something to hide behind. An' she's also feral, if the hair crests an' sharply pointed ears are anything to go by. My own evolutionary line stems from the canine – wolves an' the like. Hers obviously has feline connections – the eyes that are watchin' me so intently are slitted like a cats an' they reflect the cell's half-light when she moves slightly.

"What's your name?" I ask. The words are soft, but she flinches as though expectin' a blow an' I catch a fleetin' glimpse of a purple bruise marring one side of her face. No healin' factor then. She's probably a class one or two, unless I miss my guess. Class two, if she possesses the enhanced senses. She's certainly got the talons. I can see 'em now, restin' against the side of her leg, sharp an' deadly. I understand now the reason for the tree stump – if her mutation is feline in origin, she will need to exercise those talons regularly.

I briefly wonder how many times those talons have been exercised in the flesh of her handlers. Probably the reason why she's got the bruise in the first place, although it looks as though she's had all the fight knocked outta her now. Poor kid. If it weren't for me, this would probably be Jubilee's fate.

The fact that she's naked bothers me an' makes me wonder if she's being kept here solely for the guards' jollies. An' then I curse my own lack o' insight as the truth hits me …..

Farrell's lewd insinuations … Frost's apologetic glance …

_They want me to fuck her._

A fierce growl escapes my lips at the realisation that the kid is being kept as a breeder, a sound which I quickly cut off as she whimpers in fear an' tries to force herself further back into her hidey-hole. _Damn it!_ I quickly put out a hand, tryin' to make amends for frightening her.

"Hey hey, it's okay. I wasn't growlin' at you. I'm ….. I'm just mad at what's been done to ya, that's all."

The kid uncovers her face slowly, her eyes scared. "You're not going to hurt me?"

"No, I'm not," I reply, decisively. "In fact, I'm gonna stay right here an' go to sleep. I'm tired." I begin to slide slowly down to the floor, leavin' a space between myself an' the bed in case she wants to creep to it in the night. To be honest, I don't think she's been using it – there's a bundled up blanket in the corner which I think she's been nestlin' into in the hope o' makin' herself as unnoticeable as possible. _Fuckin' bastards!_ Is there nothing Roberts won't stoop to in his hatred for mutant kind? Has this kid already paid the ultimate price for his insanity?

I'm so angry I could howl an' smash something, but I have to stay calm if I'm to convince the kid I'm no threat to her. My inner beast, lurkin' just below the surface o' my psyche – as he has been doing, ever since I got here – is exhibiting his usual possessive nature when faced with a helpless cub. He wants to gather her close an' lick an' soothe her, but I daren't move in case I scare her. Being subjected to a possessive feral is the last thing she needs right now. Instead, I allow a bass rumble to vibrate deep in my chest – what Marie calls my purr. As a feral – an' especially one o' the feline descent – she should find the sound soothin', invoking memories o' being safe in her mother's womb.

The floor is cold, but my frequent nights o' broken sleep on account o' my handlers, coming on top o' my recent brush with death, takes its toll an' I begin to drift off, despite my best efforts to keep my eyes on the cub, lulled by my own feral purr. I am vaguely aware o' the cub studying me intently – she is still wary but her eyes are beginning to lose the light of fear.

I am almost asleep when I feel her tiny body tuck up against my back. I resist the urge to roll over an' gather her to me in favour of lettin' her dictate the pace o' this encounter. I want her to perceive me as someone she can trust an' feel safe with. I am honestly surprised she has come to me at all. Now that she's close an' within the range o' my suppressant dulled senses, I can smell the scent o' man on her. The kid has been raped recently – probably more than once – an' once again my ire is raised. _She's barely seventeen, fer Chrissakes!_ What kind of bastard condones the rape of a helpless kid?

It sickens me that I know the answer. _Roberts._ How many other kids has he got locked up in this place? How much misery an' suffering is being inflicted on 'em every single day? An' for what purpose?

_Oh Christ … The baby …_ I remember hearin' a baby cry when I was taken out on my mission. Roberts is running a god-damn breedin' farm here. He's playing god an' tryin' to create life in his own image. An' he wants to use me an' this kid to produce that life.

Right there an' then I make myself a promise. Nobody is using me as a fuckin' baby makin' machine. An' when me an' Jubes break outta here, this cub is coming with us. Along with anyone else who's being held here against their will.

Xavier's will think Christmas has come early.

I keep as still as possible as the kid presses against my back, lettin' my purr vibrate through my body, knowin' she can feel it. There are things I want to say – to ask – but I gotta take this slow. I gotta let the kid call the shots.

"You're feral?" Her voice is timid, barely more than a whisper against my neck.

I nod slowly. "Yeah."

"Wolf?"

Another nod.

She falls silent, probably wonderin' how it is that a canine an' a feline can rest together so amicably. In our completely feral states, we'd probably be tryin' to tear each other to pieces, but our human side counteracts these instincts, keepin' us calm an' hospitable. Our human ability to form alliances is one o' the stronger aspects o' this unusual an' often violent spilt personality we are blessed with as ferals.

"My name's Logan," I offer into the silence, hoping she will reciprocate. Among ferals, sharing your name is the ultimate sign of trust. A name is power. It means acceptance. Companionship. Pack.

She is silent a long time an' I begin to wonder if she has fallen asleep. I have all but resigned myself to simply being a rock she can cling to in her time of need when I feel her stir against my back.

Her little hands go into my hair an' she begins to massage my scalp. Grooming me ….. submitting to me.

"They call me Tirzah," she whispers, softly.

My heart soars in response. This little female – unknown to me, yet beaten an' raped by men we both hold as enemies – has accepted me as her pack leader ….. her Alpha. She has knowingly an' willingly put herself under _my_ protection. Whether this is a misplaced notion or not, only time will tell, yet I will do all I can to honour her trust in me. As an unmated Alpha, I would now be obligated to mate with her, thus sealing our newfound kinship. The lengthy silence before she told me her name suggests that she suspected this, yet was still willing to place herself in my hands if it meant she would be protected. However, as a bonded male, I have no intention of mating with this female or any other. I will sow my seed with only one female for the rest of my days. My lifemate owns me now.

The kid is tremblin'. She won't know I am bonded an' is obviously waitin' for me to take her. After being raped so many times, I am honestly surprised that she has submitted to me so readily, but maybe it's all she knows. I have no idea how long she has been here or how badly she has been treated. Does she consider me the lesser of two evils? Is sex with me preferable to being alone an' without a pack?

My inner feral growls at the implications this raises – the kid obviously realises I won't be allowed to remain in her cell indefinitely, yet to be so desperate for companionship to consider forming even the most tentative of attachments betrays her insecurity. I can't protect her every step o' the way ….. but I can assure her o' my intentions.

I roll over slowly until I am facing her. The cub's eyes are wide with fear an' she bites her lip nervously, givin' me a brief glimpse of a sharply pointed canine. Knowledge o' the feral way an' what she is offerin' makes her body tremble against mine, yet she still manages to take my cuffed hand an' place it on her hip – a hip which bears the bruise of a previous grip, I notice with a barely repressed snarl.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin', I assure her with as much tenderness as my feral induced rage will allow. "I'm bonded."

"You have a mate?" Her eyes, which she had lowered in submission, now come up to fix onto mine, hope flaring within their amber depths. "You're not going to ….?"

"No, I'm not," I interrupt quickly. I feel strangely reluctant to hear the words from her mouth, as if this will only serve to bring my own fears to the surface. "You're pack now," I emphasis. "I don't abuse my pack."

My pack. _Christ, what a concept._ I've gone from being a virtual loner to being the head of a pack o' two in the space of a week. An' both female, to boot. Anyone would think I was startin' a harem, for Chrissakes! Add to this the head-turnin' looks o' my Alpha female an' I'll have a pack any feral within a hundred miles would gladly fight me for.

_Let 'em try, I say._ My pack may be small, but they've got balls. An' their Alpha is the meanest mother-fucker around.

Allowin' my purr to go up a notch in an action meant to soothe an' calm, I take my hand away from the cub's hip an' bring her own up to my nose where I inhale her scent, imprinting it on my memory. This close, I can see other bruises on her tiny body, along with other more unspeakable marks. There are teeth marks on her left breast – marks which look suspiciously feral …

I'm beginning to get an idea o' the kind o' rewards Roberts offers Victor for his services ….. Jubilee had better be unharmed when I get back, or so help me …..

I push the thought from my mind. Tirzah needs all my attention at this time.

"Do you wanna talk?" I ask my new cub gently, wonderin' if I'll be able to curb my anger if she voices my suspicions.

But she shakes her head. "No."

That simple yet honestly spoken word conveys more to me than if she'd told me everything. I know now that she's suffered unspeakable horrors – horrors too terrible to voice even to her Alpha, an' I make a silent vow to make amends for everything that Roberts an' his fuckin' men have put her through. One o' these days, someone is gonna teach men like Roberts a valuable lesson. Teach 'em that it's not okay to cage mutants like animals an' rape helpless kids.

I hope to god it's me …..

**NEXT:** Wolverine unwillingly contributes to the gene pool.


	26. To the Victor, the Spoils

Hey, everyone! First of all, I am so very sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter. It's actually been ready for the past week and a half, but extra hours at work plus after-hours meetings have conspired to keep me away from my computer. So please accept my sincere apologies and be heartened by the fact that the next chapter is only a couple of paragraphs away from being finished and should be uploaded a darn-sight quicker!

Second of all, I know you were all expecting Wolvie to be dragged - kicking and screaming - to the gene pool in this chapter, but I ask you all to wait just that little bit longer for this revelation. I was gonna include it in this chapter - honestly I was! - but one thing led to another and the chapter got longer and longer and I finally came to the decision to split it into two! So here's another evil cliff-hanger for you, with the gene pool coming in the next chapter! Sincere apologies!

Now that I've made my apologies, it's time to thank everyone for taking the time to review the last chapter! Hugs and major kudos to **Comic-cake, moviemom44, alexmonalisa, nileena, Kyryn1, Mrstrentreznor, Laudine, MidLifeCrisis, notashamedtobesoilyfan, Masanya **and** pinkdrama! **You really are the greatest!

Shameless plug time! Some of you are aware that I have been working on a new Rogan - one with lots of smut and tons of Logan and Marie hotness! Well, it's finished and I am now in the process of typing it up! Working title is 'Casualties of Love' and should be gracing your computer screens in the very near future!

And now, without further ado, it's time to join the feral action! Onward ...!

**ooXoo**

**26. To the Victor, the Spoils**

The mansion's hallways were dark and silent, but Xavier knew the way around his home like the back of his hand and had no need of lights as he made his way slowly and purposefully down to the ground floor. Sleep had not come easy this night – or any night since the day Wolverine and Jubilee had been forcibly taken from them. The revelation that their feral team-mate was still alive – which led, inevitably, to the possibility that Jubilee was also alive – had not soothed his troubled mind at all. In truth, his conscience was battling with his common-sense. Guilt at abandoning a team-mate – no, _two_ team-mates – was filling his days with self-doubt and his nights with tangled sheets and troubled dreams.

Finally forced to leave his room in search of herbal tea in an effort to ease his troubled mind and get some much needed sleep, he found himself heading, not for the kitchen, but for the elevator which led down to the lower levels and he realised his sub-conscious had come to a much needed decision. As he paused before the X-styled doors that led to Cerebro and allowed the computer to scan his retina, he knew he couldn't bear to hear Kitty cry herself to sleep one more night, while _he _knew that her teacher and team-mate were still alive. He couldn't look at Rogue without remembering that it was his inability to act quickly enough which had robbed her of her lover and best friend. The accusing glares she thought she was doing so well to hide broke his heart, but he deserved them.

And now he had to make amends.

_***Welcome, Professor***_

The computer voice, deliberately styled after a female voice in an attempt to invoke a sense of maternal ease, preceded the rumble of the Cerebro room doors as they parted to admit their creator and chief operator. Xavier wheeled himself inside with a fierce determination that reflected on his fatherly features.

He was going to find the Wolverine if it killed him …..

**oooOOOooo**

It's a given concept that all ferals sleep with one eye an' one ear open, alert for any sign o' danger. This is figuratively speakin', o' course, although I ain't gonna knock the theory. It's how most of us have managed to survive as long as we have. An' if McCoy's bizarre musings are to be believed, it's how we have managed to protect our cubs an' females alike to become the oldest surviving race on the planet – bar none. So when Tirzah stirs in the night an' rests her head on my chest, I pull her close an' surround her with the protection o' my arms. When she begins to whimper in her sleep, I stroke her back an' gently sooth her until she calms.

My feral senses keep me alert to whatever is happenin' around me …..

So we are both embarrassed to be taken unawares as Farrell unlocks the door to the cell an' strides inside as though he owns the place.

To our credit, we recover quickly – Tirzah scooting backwards on all fours to her hidey-hole by the toilet, an' me surgin' to my feet in one fluid movement, my hands held loosely at my sides in that curious posture I seem to adopt when I'm about to unsheathe my claws. O' course, I ain't about to do that right now – not unless I wanna experience a whole world o' pain. The cuffs have curbed my bloodlust somewhat, but my fightin' spirit is wholly intact.

"You've been a naughty boy, Wolverine." Farrell plants himself in front o' me with his pulse rifle levelled squarely at my chest. The two bruisers coming into the cell behind him look to be all muscle an' attitude – the low growl rumblin' in my chest doesn't even phase 'em.

"You can growl all you want to, feral, but you ain't impressing me." Farrell waggles his rifle, showin' his teeth in a wide grin an' clearly showin' off for the benefit of his subordinates. _Cocky asshole_

I bare my own teeth in a feral snarl, deliberately displayin' my canines. "Believe me when I say the last person on earth I would ever want to impress is you, Farrell," I retort, easily.

Farrell feigns surprise, leanin' back to address his colleagues while still keepin' an eye on me. "Oh, y'hear that, Stevens? The feral's gettin' feisty! Thinks he can intimidate us."

"Pity he wasn't as feisty with the kitty while he had the chance." The guy called Stevens steps forward, leavin' his companion coverin' the door. "Y'know what I think, Farrell? I think the feral bats for the other team."

Both soldiers indulge in a bout of uncontrolled laughter, safe in the knowledge that me an' Tirzah are cowed an' covered by the guy at the door. While they're gettin' their jollies, I toss my cub a meaningful glance an' back up slightly, makin' it look as though I'm intimidated by the three rifles. If they knew me at all, they'd realise I am puttin' myself in a position where I can see all three men without obstruction an' maybe then they'd be a bit more wary.

Better men than Farrell have underestimated me an' not lived to regret it.

Farrell eventually laughs himself out an' decides to take the joke further. "Is that right, feral? Do you prefer the dogs to the bitches? It's the only answer for not wanting to bang our pretty kitty like all the others we've put in here."

For a moment, I see red, but force it down with the knowledge that if I lose it now, Tirzah will only get hurt. These men are cocky – inexperienced at dealing with a full-grown male feral. I am a far cry to the petite females that make up the bulk o' their usual victims. I can use that to my advantage, but only if I keep my senses an' allow the man to take my natural animal cunning an' combine it with his human intelligence.

I drop back into an easy stance, fixing Farrell with a steady an' what I hope is a suggestive gaze. "Maybe I _do_ prefer the bucks," I respond, lickin' my lips as I allow my eyes to rove down his body. "Wanna volunteer yer services?"

Just for a second, Farrell is stunned into silence and I am rewarded with the satisfaction o' seeing his face cloud with confusion an' uncertainty. His two companions evidently aren't so prudish an' they guffaw loudly, makin' lewd hand gestures an' suggestions as to how Farrell may be able to satisfy me. Farrell bears it all with the demeanour of a man who is just seconds away from being pushed to the limit an' when his face flushes red I am hard pressed to say whether this is from anger or embarrassment.

"You think you're so fuckin' superior to all us normal folks, don't you, feral?" _Definitely anger then, if the swearing an' the flyin' spit are anything to go by._ "Maybe someone oughta teach ya how to be a man? Maybe I oughta fuck that little kitty o' yours right in front of you an' show you how to do it?"

An' he reaches past me, intendin' to drag Tirzah from her hidey-hole.

This is the moment I've been waitin' for. His back is exposed, with the bulk of his body blockin' me off from the rifles of his two companions. A howl rises in my throat as I bring my hand around an' down, deliverin' a devastatin' cuff-enhanced chop to the back o' Farrell's neck. The bastard goes down before he even realises he's made a fatal mistake.

I leap for Stevens at the same time as Tirzah launches herself outta her hidey-hole an' onto Farrell's back, snarlin' like an enraged cougar. Her taloned fingers swipe at the back of his head an' come away bloodied. He flails around in panic when she flips him over an' goes for his throat with her sharp little teeth, but his gurglin' cry tell me that he's just violated his last captive.

My cub has made her first kill.

Stevens doesn't put up much of a fight after seeing Farrell's fate. To his credit, though, he tries to get the rifle up to pull the trigger, but I'm bigger an' meaner than he is, an' my superior weight simply tackles him down to the ground where I head-butt him into oblivion. By the time I get to my feet, the third guard is standin' frozen in the doorway, his face white with terror.

"Don't ….. don't hurt me," he stammers. The rifle is shakin' visibly in his hands.

For all his size, he's still just a coward when faced with prisoners who fight back.

Tirzah comes to stand beside me, spittin' like an alley cat. In a moment's startlin' clarity, I can see now that she has a ruff o' ginger fur which runs all the way down her spine – this is now standin' up in the way of all enraged felines. Her toes are also sharply taloned an' she is balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to spring. Her entire body stance resembles that of a bristling cat – if she had a tail it'd be lashing back an' forth.

I honestly couldn't be more proud o' her …..

The young guard begins to back off, unwittingly exciting Tirzah's natural instincts to stalk an' pounce. Her ears quiver with anticipation as she tracks his movements, a low purrin' growl vibratin' deep in her throat. When she springs, it's with all the grace an' accuracy of her feline heritage.

I am right behind her as she tackles the guard out into the hallway, his startled yell cut off abruptly as the back of his head gets acquainted with the opposite wall. He slumps to the floor with a grunt as Tirzah stands over him triumphantly, her little fists clenched.

She jerks around as I place my hand on her shoulder an' for a brief moment I think she's gonna attack me too, but she calms quickly enough, although her teeth are still bared.

I nod downwards to the unconscious guard at my feet. "Did he …..?" I still can't bring myself to say the words out loud.

"No, _he_ didn't." She jerks her head in the direction o' the cell. "But _they_ did."

I am actually surprised she answered my question. I didn't expect her to. But whether she would have said more or not is lost as our ears are suddenly assaulted by a strident alarm. We spin around, searchin' for its source an' I curse colourfully. _Shit!_ I forgot about the cameras in the cells.

"Come on!" I take off in the direction o' the elevator, but a shout from Tirzah brings me up short.

"No! They'll jam the elevator and then we'll be trapped. Follow me! There are stairs back this way."

I backtrack quickly an' together we bolt down the hallway, our barely feet makin' scarcely a sound on the cold tiled floor. Frightened faces peer through the bars o' the doors we pass – some o' their occupants even reach out to us pleadingly. All are female. I have to force myself to keep going. _Ya can't help 'em all,_ I tell myself, but those simple words don't make the heartache any easier to bear. With my claws, I could have 'em all outta those cells in seconds – without 'em I'm helpless. But I'll come back. I'll come back an' free 'em all – after I've killed the bastards that put 'em in there. The silent promise is burned into my brain.

But there's one person I ain't leavin' here without. Jubilee is just one level down an' Victor is with her, meanin' that our cell door will be open. I don't care who I have to go through to get her, the kid is coming with me.

The hallway ends in a closed door, which fortunately turns out to be unlocked an' we barrel through into a lab. The antiseptic stink o' chemicals an' old blood almost brings me to my knees an' I bite back a growl as my inner beast stirs, agitatedly. He don't like labs. Can't say as they appeal much to _me,_ neither. Me an' labs ain't exactly got good history. Every time I've been in one, something bad has happened, an' I've grown to hate 'em with a passion that borders on obsession.

I usually avoid 'em like the plague – however I've got no choice but to cross this one to the door at the far side that Tirzah is leadin' me to. Tryin' not to let my eye be distracted by the instruments o' torture lyin' around, I follow her, but something is tellin' me this ain't your normal, run-o'-the-mill, experiment-on-mutants kinda lab.

I stop, baring my teeth at a small incubator standin' silent an' empty next to one o' the operatin' tables.

"The hell is this place?" I demand, already knowin' the answer but needin' to hear it first hand.

Tirzah slows an' backtracks towards me, her amber eyes haunted an' sad. "You don't want to know," she informs me, softly ….. reluctantly.

"Tell me!" I snarl, an' Tirzah flinches, recognising the command of an Alpha.

"It's where they bring us when ….. when …" She falters an' hangs her head in shame, an' I curse myself ten ways to Sunday for forcing her to face her demons. But I need her to say it – I need her to tell me exactly what is going on in this place. Because when I kill every last son-of-a-bitch who works here, I want to hear 'em scream for mercy in exactly the same way their victims have begged for the same consideration. I want 'em to understand exactly why they're being punished an' who's doing it. Knowin' what they've done will make it easier to release the beast.

Easier to forget that I'm better than they are ….. just for the time it takes to make 'em pay.

Tirzah is silent, her head bowed, lost in her own world o' painful memories, an' I reach out to pick up a hospital robe which is lyin' over one o' the tables. It stinks o' anaesthetic an' is a stark reminder o' the atrocities that have been committed here, but the cub is still naked an' she needs to cover up. Not for the sake o' appearances, y'understand? We ferals have no hang-ups about nudity the way normal folks do. We're as happy in the buff as we are clothed. Sometimes happier, if my own memories o' livin' rough in the Canadian forests are anything to go by. But if me an' Tirzah are to pull this escape off, she needs to be covered. I won't have the army-types viewing her as nothing more'n a plaything to fuck.

The alarms are still blaring as I move towards her. I'm honestly surprised we haven't been challenged by now, but I ain't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. They obviously know exactly where we are – I figure they're marshalling the troops strategically at all the exits. No need to corner us in the hallways when they can just head us off at the pass. Too bad for them, I ain't gonna head for the pass ….

Tirzah's head remains bowed as I place the robe gently around her shoulders. A slight tremor runs through her body at the brief contact, as though steeling herself not to run, an' I pull back quickly, understanding that the memories o' what's been done to her are still raw. She needs space. An' time. Lots o' time. Time to put the memories behind her an' move on ….. get used to being around males an' know that they ain't gonna molest her. My size, in comparison to hers, must be intimidating. Yes, she has acknowledged me as her Alpha, but I am still male, an' the males in this place have not been kind. That she has given me her trust at all is, quite frankly, a miracle.

"Come on, let's go." I make to move away towards the rear door – I am ashamed to have forced my cub to think o' things she would rather forget an' the sooner we get outta this place now, the better – but she reaches out to take my hand, prompting me to stop. When I look back, her amber eyes reflect the pain of all she has been forced to endure for the sake o' science.

"You know what this place is, Logan," she tells me softly, confirming what I already suspect. "The doctors here are creating babies ….. babies they can brainwash and control as they mature. This …." she gestures around the lab, " ….. is where they play god."

I smother the growl that rises up in my throat an' squeeze her hand, tightly. I won't ask. I won't ask how many times she has been dragged into this room or if she has borne any o' those cubs herself. Those words are for future times an' happier places. For now, there is no other option but to secure that future. An' that means takin' down this chicken-shit outfit an' those responsible for it.

"Let's go," I growl an' the cub falls into step behind me as I jog for the door.

Beyond is an anti-room, presumably where the doctors dress an' leave their consciences behind before enterin' the lab, then another hallway punctuated by doors. I don't even bother lookin' into any o' the rooms they lead into, although several o' the doors stand open. I've honestly had enough o' this place – all I want is the scent o' wide open spaces an' the freedom to run.

We find the stairwell at the end o' this hallway an' Tirzah starts up as I take the first o' the steps down. She quickly halts an' turns, obviously confused an' not understandin' my actions.

"Logan?"

"I ain't headin' up, Tirzah. Not yet. There's somebody one floor down that means a lot to me an' I ain't leavin' her."

I take another step, then a third, but still she hesitates, lookin' up the stairs wistfully as though sensing the freedom that lies beyond their limits. I stop on the fourth step down, my shoulders hunchin' as I try not to betray the tension I am feelin'. "I ain't leavin' her," I repeat with a growl. "She's pack."

That's all it takes. Tirzah nods an' lopes gracefully down the steps separating us an' stands silently at my side, awaitin' my lead. Together, we descend to the next floor.

This floor is laid out pretty much the same as the one above, complete with its own version o' the lab. This one has several cages set against the far wall, which suggests that some unlucky buggers get to see an experiment being carried out on one o' their fellows before it's their turn on the operatin' table. The room is divided by a glass screen, leavin' a clear area beyond, but god only knows what that's used for. The set up reminds me of our own Danger Room, but I doubt this is used for something as benign as trainin'.

This ain't the lab I woke up in when I first arrived here, which suggests that there are others scattered throughout the facility, each with their own staff an' particular use. Once again, I am appalled at the atrocities that so-called civilised man is capable of inflicting on his fellows in the name o' science. They call us animals – freaks o' nature. But I ask you – who are the animals here?

Tirzah sneezes repeatedly as we cross the lab, the scent o' man strong in her nostrils. I reach the door ahead o' her an' open it to find myself starin' down the barrels o' several dozen pulse rifles.

_Jesus ….._

I drop to a fightin' crouch as Tirzah steps out into the hallway beside me an' bare my teeth at the nearest guard. He pales slightly, but holds his ground, an' I prepare to spring an' to hell with the consequences …..

"Hold it right there, Jimmy." Victor strides forward, pushing arrogantly past the first line o' defence to halt just feet away. Tirzah spits at him an' presses herself into my side, drawin' Victor's attention. He grins an' slides his tongue over his canines.

"Hello again, little kitty-cat. Nice o' you to bring the entertainment down here, Jimmy-boy. I look forward to givin' her my undivided attention when this is all over."

"You can keep yer damn hands off her, bub." I step out slightly, puttin' myself nearer to Victor but keepin' Tirzah behind me. Several nervous guards cock their rifles. "I've only come for Jubilee. Give her to me an' nobody will get hurt."

I'm lyin', o' course. I have every intention o' dealin' out as much hurt as physically possible.

Victor laughs humourlessly, gesturin' around at the twenty or so guards who are all pointin' rifles at my head. _"We_ won't get hurt? Are you for real? I don't think _we_ will get hurt at all. These guys have got orders to open fire the second you make a move towards your cell." He folds his arms an' rocks back onto one foot. "Tell me something, Jimmy. Did you honestly believe that Roberts wouldn't suspect you'd come back here for the kid?"

I allow myself a feral grin. "Well, I was kinda hopin' ….." Truth is, I'd gambled on 'em expectin' me an' Tirzah to act like the animals they think we are – boltin' for the nearest exit at the first sign o' freedom. Seems like I seriously underestimated my enemy.

It won't happen again …..

"You've got two minutes to get the girl an' bring her here to me." I raise my hands an' flex the fingers as far as the cuffs will allow. "Bring her here or I go an' get her. Your choice."

The other feral shakes his head. "No can do, Jimmy." He ignores my angry snarl. "I can't allow you to take her."

"You can't allow me …..?" I take another step forward, inciting a second round o' nervous rifle cocking. "Who the hell d'ya think ya are, Victor?"

"I'm the guy who's gonna put you back in your cell, little brother." Victor steps forward, punctuating his words with a sharp jab of his finger. "If you give up quietly, Roberts won't punish you too harshly. If you're real good, he may even let you keep the little kitty-cat for a few hours." He cocks his head, studying the cub snarlin' quietly behind me in a manner which I don't take to at all. "Maybe we could share? Y'know, just for old times' sake ….."

Howlin', I launch myself at Victor, completely catchin' the guards unawares, who all gape stupidly as I crash into the older feral an' bear him down to the ground. As we roll around on the floor tradin' punches, I hear Tirzah scream an' fling herself at the nearest guard. Everything seems to happen at once – the sizzlin' charge of a pulse rifle crackles over my head, someone yells in pain an' then Victor's big hand wraps around my throat, cuttin' off my air an' chokin' me. As the blood roars in my ears, he hauls me to my feet an' slams me sideways into the wall. My vision blurs with the force of the impact.

"When will ya ever learn, Jimmy?" Victor leans in close, pushin' his face into mine as he holds me pinned to the wall. My fingers scrabble ineffectually at his wrist, but the cuffs inhibit my hands an' I can't get a decent grip. "I'm bigger'n you. Stronger. You've never been able to beat me. Never! Not even with those fancy fuckin' claws they gave you." He gives me a shake, which tightens his fingers around my throat an' makes me gag. "You're a disgrace to yer fuckin' heritage, Jimmy. Call yerself a feral?" Another shake. "I don't think so."

An' he swings me around an' hurls me into the nearest group o' guards.

We go down like nine-pins, my weight instantly knockin' one guy unconscious as I land across him. I come up fightin', layin' out left an' right, deckin' the first guy to get in my way with a blisterin' uppercut – the guard behind him goes down to a rabbit punch to the gut. I howl in fury as two guards launch themselves at my back an' immediately back-peddle into the wall, hearin' 'em both grunt in pain as they slide to the floor. With fists raised, I turn to seek out my true enemy – Victor.

Afterwards, I realise I should have stayed among the guards ...

Fightin' at close quarters means that they can't bring their rifles to bear for fear o' hittin' each other, but the feral inside me takes control an' over-rides the common-sense o' the man. With a red haze o' rage cloudin' my vision, all I can think about is smashin' the face o' my rival into the wall. I am only dimly aware that Tirzah is fightin' her way to my side – the guards around her bear the marks of her talons on their faces, yet still they seek to keep her away from me. They know that if they allow us to fight back to back, we will be virtually unstoppable.

If I had just kept my senses, we would have fought our way free o' the guards, tackled Victor together an' rescued Jubilee before makin' our way to freedom. But the beast was in control an' had only one thing on his feral mind …..

Proving himself the superior male.

Everything that happens from that moment on – all the pain we suffer an' the shit that blights my life – is a direct result o' my own reckless decision.

I only have myself to blame …..

Tirzah yells a warnin' as I fight my way through the guards surroundin' me, my intent fixed on Victor who is beckoning me on with crooked fingers. I hear a shout from further down the hallway – a female voice screamin' my name – an' even in the throes o' the beast I recognise the voice o' my cub, Jubilee. My fury makes me act on pure animal instinct – the next guard to get in my way goes down under the combined onslaught o' two metal enhanced fists. An' then there is only open space between me an' Victor an' I spring forward with a crazed howl an' murder in my eyes.

I never get the chance to reach him. A rifle blast catches me full in the back, knockin' me off balance an' sendin' me slammin' into the wall. A second blast sends me to my knees.

Victor strides forward as I struggle to throw off the effects of the lethal electrocution, back-handin' me across the face an' sendin' me sprawlin' to the floor.

He shakes his head as he stands over me, sighing sadly. "I gave ya a chance, Jimmy, don't say I didn't. But ya chose to ignore it. An' now there's nothing more I can do to help." He turns an' gestures to the guards who are still standin'. "Take him down, boys. Take 'em _both_ down."

The last thing I hear as I am shocked into insensibility is the sound o' my cub screamin' for help …..

**NEXT: ** Logan unwillingly contributes to the gene pool! (I promise!)


	27. Gene Pool

Hi, everyone! Well, this latest chapter is sure to court some controversy, but it's essential if the plot is to continue. Several of you have already worked out some of the future details and this was the only way to make sure those plotlines converge. I can only hope you will forgive me for torturing our feral!

Once again, thanks are in order for my faithful reviewers! - **moviemom44, Comic-cake, Laudine, nileena, alexmonalisa, Mrstrentreznor, Sniktchick **and** notashamedtobesoilyfan!** Many, many thanks!

So, here we go! The saga continues ... Onward!

**ooXoo**

**27. Gene Pool**

Consciousness returns with a nagging headache an' a fading tinglin' sensation in my skin which awakens memories o' being used as target practise by those fuckin' guards with pulse rifles. I can remember Victor standin' over me, laughin' as he pawed Tirzah's unconscious body an' this, more'n anything else, prompts the growl that rumbles from my throat. Fightin' back the last lingerin' traces o' darkness, I struggle to rise, only to find myself paralysed …..

_What the hell …..?_

My eyes snap open, instantly registering my surroundings as a lab, even as my senses kick into gear an' give me a snootful o' antiseptic an' chemicals. I sneeze as they burn my throat, turnin' my head to the side to find my 'paralysis' due to restraints at my wrists an' ankles. My heartrate immediately goes up a notch with the realisation that I'm being held down onto an operating table an' I thrash helplessly against the metal bands, panic momentarily blindin' my eyes to the fact that I'm naked. That little detail, when it finally sinks in, brings an icy stab o' dread to my heart.

_Jesus Christ, I'm naked …..!_

Memories of another lab – another time – flash before my unwilling eyes, forcin' a single word o' denial past my clenched teeth – _"Nooooo ….." _Fragments o' things long forgotten assault my senses ….. a thousand deadly needles piercing my skin ….. the angry growl of a bear …. blood on snow … An' over-riding it all is the gut-wrenching realisation that I was naked the entire time they experimented on me …..

_Jesus, please …. Not again ….._

Fear seizes me an' I strain ineffectually at the bonds holdin' me down, oblivious to the blood that slicks my wrists. _I won't go through all that again ….. I can't let them use me ….._ Jesus Christ, I've only just regained my humanity after the last time the scientist-types fucked with my mind – I'd rather die before I'll let 'em do it again.

If it comes to that, I'll do the job myself ….. I'll tear my own fuckin' throat out ….. I'll …..

I'll do nothing …..

Because I know that whatever I or the bastards in white to my body, my own fuckin' healin' factor will drag me back from the dead every time. It's why I'm so fuckin' useful to 'em. I can't be killed.

_I'__m my own worse enemy ….._

With this thought I cease strugglin' against the bonds holdin' me down, lettin' the blood pool around my wrists an' feelin' the familiar crawlin' sensation o' my skin knittin' itself back together. _I can't fight this._ Whatever they've got planned for me, they're gonna carry it out an' nothing I say or do will stop it. The original Weapon X project almost destroyed the man – only by surrendering to the control o' the beast did I manage to survive, although the cost was high. It took me months to claw my way back into the light, forced finally to emerge by the shock of a bullet to the gut. Maybe ….. maybe if I let the beast take me now, there'll be something to salvage when all this is over ?

_Why are they keepin' me here ….. waitin'__ …..?_

_Why don't they fuckin' get it over with?_

As if my thoughts are the cue, a door somewhere out o' my line o' sight slides open an' two distinct scents enter the room – one male, one female. The male moves to the far side o' the lab an' begins tinkerin' with some scalpels – _I ain't even gonna think about those _ - the female walks slowly towards my table an' stands beside it, lookin' down on me as though I'm a bug beneath her microscope.

"Well. So you're the Wolverine? I must admit, I was expecting someone a little taller, but the security cameras usually throw everything out of proportion."

She adjusts her glasses an' allows her eyes to wander the length o' my body. I say nothin', studyin' her as intently as she is studyin' me – she's plain, boringly so, with a severe face an' hair cut in a short bob. The only thing even remotely interesting about her is the medical coat she is wearin' and _that_ is worth notin' only because it means she is the one in charge here.

My executioner has arrived …

She touches my bloodied wrist. "I see you've been trying to free yourself? And the vaunted healing factor has kicked in and sealed the wounds. Well, well. So my esteemed colleagues in the weapons division were finally right about something. You really _do_ heal as fast as they say."

She folds her arms an' checks me out once more an' I can't stop the growl that rises in my throat. "Who the hell are you, lady? An' why am I here?"

"My name," she tells me, haughtily, "is Doctor Kinney. And you have been sent to my lab because General Roberts is very displeased with you. The subject you know as Tirzah is fertile at this time. You were sent to impregnate her. You did not."

"I'm not a fuckin' stallion at stud," I snarl back. "I don't perform on command."

"Hence the reason you have been sent to me." Kinney moves away slightly an' wheels an instrument trolley back to my table. I try not to let my eyes stray to the contents. "We have twelve females in this facility, Wolverine. If you had proved obedient, you would have been rewarded with time to ….. shall we say … entertain? …. each one. But then you had to display your usual lack of regard for the chain of command and prove to be a difficult subject."

"Why break the habit of a lifetime?"

"Why, indeed? Yet I understand from your files that taking a pretty woman to your bed has never been a particular problem for you. What was it about X-4 that proved so different, hmm?"

"Maybe the fact that she's just a kid," I snap back. "I don't go in for abusing teenagers."

"So, the question of morals rears its ugly head again, does it?" Kinney picks up a syringe an' studies it, carefully. "I suppose you're going to suggest that what we're doing here is wrong? Yet are farmers wrong for breeding sheep and cattle? Are we wrong to seat our policemen on horses and send them to quell riots?"

"This ain't the same thing, an' you know it. Jesus, lady, we're talkin' about human lives here!"

"But by your own standards, you admit you're _not_ human." Kinney hesitates, lookin' me right in the eye. "You can't have it both ways, Wolverine. Your own scientists profess that you are homo superior. That, on its own, suggests that you hold yourselves apart from the human race."

"Look, lady, I ain't about to get into a fuckin' moral debate about what is an' isn't human." Fact is, a lot o' this is above my understandin' an' I wouldn't be able to hold my own in a scientific argument. I need McCoy for that, but he ain't here, so I'll just have to go it alone. "The point is that we're livin', breathin' sentient beings – we're capable o' love, hate an' pride just like the rest o' you. An' we fuckin' feel it when you inflict pain on us!"

Kinney isn't impressed. "You speak of pain, Wolverine, yet you could have saved X-4 from being punished simply by having sex with her." She removes the hypo's cover an' taps it to dispel the bubbles. I swallow nervously. "She was instructed to seduce you if you were ….. reluctant to take her. She did not, so she is being taught to be more obedient in future. As for you ….. a good man died in your escape attempt, Wolverine. Stevens is in a coma. Several men from your ill-fated last stand are also in the hospital."

"Remind me to send 'em a get-well card," I snarl back, anger at Tirzah's fate makin' my voice rough. At least they think it was me who killed Farrell, an' I ain't about to correct that misconception. If I can save her from being punished for the bastard's death, I will gladly suffer whatever retribution they see fit to deal out. It was _my_ fuckin' pride that got us into the mess in the first place – the least I can do is make amends.

"Is that_ my_ punishment?" I ask, noddin' towards the hypo in Kinney's fingers. "You figurin' to pump me full o' poisons an' have me screamin' for mercy?" I allow a feral grin to darken my features. "Seems only fair to warn ya that it probably won't work on me. My healin' factor'll cancel it out."

"This?" Kinney looks down at the hypo as if surprised to see it in her hand. "No, this isn't meant to have you screaming, Wolverine. At least, not in the way you would expect." She moves nearer, hoverin' above me like a white-coated spectre o' death, an' presses the hypo to my stomach. I am powerless to resist as she sends the contents coursing into my blood stream. "There. We'll just give it a few moments to work, shall we? And it _will_ work, Wolverine. Have no doubts about that. Remember the blood sample we acquired during the cage fight? Thanks to _my _ingenuity, the C-serum wasn't the only thing we managed to key to your system. I am especially proud of this particular break-through."

"What is it?" I grind out. My stomach is beginning to feel warm – a sensation which is rapidly movin' downwards into my groin. The feelin' isn't unpleasant, just ….. unsettlin' ….. an' strangely familiar.

"Why spoil the fun, Wolverine? Wouldn't you like to find out for yourself what my creation can do?" Kinney tosses the empty hypo carelessly to the trolley an' turns to her aide. "Collins, please prepare the electrodes. This shouldn't take long."

"Yes, Doctor Kinney." The aide moves off towards a waitin' trolley, somewhere out o' my line o' sight. I can hear him movin' things around …..

Kinney places her hand on my stomach, adding to the sensations crawling within. My legs an' lower torso are flushed with heat now an' her touch ignites a yearning which I'd rather deny, makin' me bite back the groan that wells up in my throat before I shame myself.

Kinney, however, smiles proudly. "You can feel it, can't you, Wolverine? It's starting already." She traces a line o' hair to my naval an' this time I can't stop the sigh that ghosts past my lips. "You see, Wolverine, those twelve females I spoke of earlier are perfect breeders. Three of them have already produced X-positive offspring, but General Roberts wants better results. And that's where you come in. If you won't impregnate them naturally, there are other ways to get what we want."

"_Jesus!"_ The expletive is torn from my lips as a red-hot fire abruptly ignites in my balls, forcin' my teeth to clench an' beads o' sweat to stand out on my forehead. In an instant o' startlin' clarity, I suddenly realise what Kinney is intending to do an' I strain to hold back the impulses which are now raging through my body. But it's like tryin' to hold back an avalanche with a stick – blood inevitably rushes downwards, thickenin' my shaft an' forcin' my back to arch off the table as I am blessed with the mother of all erections.

Kinney removes her hand from my stomach, checkin' out my size appreciatively. "I must admit, I have been looking forward to working with a male of your potency." She pauses as Collins approaches an' begins attachin' electrodes – two to my balls, one to my stomach an' one to each inner thigh. "Most males have only managed two or three samples, even with the help of the serum. You, however …" She lets the thought go unsaid, an' I growl into the silence.

"Ya plannin' on jerkin' me off yerself, or are ya gonna have the guy do it?" I nod roughly towards Collins, thankful that I've managed to keep my voice free o' the uncertainty an' fear I am experiencing. I've never felt so out o' control as I do now – even when the original Weapon X programme held me all those months an' had me jumpin' to every whim o' there's, I still managed the odd kill now an' then, just to remind 'em I was still there, waitin' for my chance to take 'em all out an' gain my freedom. But this ….. this is something else entirely. I have absolutely no control over my own body whatsoever. An' by all accounts, it's gonna get worse. Kinney holds all the aces an' she knows it.

"You really are a crude little man, aren't you, Wolverine?" Kinney makes a face an' moves away from my table towards a bank o' computers set against the wall. "There are cleaner and far more sanitary ways of collecting our samples."

"Oh yeah?" This time, my voice _does_ shake an' I curse my insecurity, even as the beast pulls at his leash, demandin' to be set free. I've kept him so close to the surface for so long now that he's difficult to control – I wanna keep him repressed but he knows he's cornered an' like all wounded animals he's ready to turn an' attack those tormenting him. I can feel my eyes darkenin' to feral black, an' my claws are pushin' against the skin between my knuckles, stopped from unsheathin' fully by the metal cuffs. The pain is keepin' me grounded, allowin' the man to hang on to his humanity only by the skin of his teeth. Whether this is a blessin' or a curse, only time an' my own stubborn instinct to survive will tell …..

**oooOOOooo**

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" Kinney stepped over to a small computer terminal, leaving her aide to finish preparing Wolverine for the milking procedure. The feral was agitated and aggressive, straining against his bonds and baring his teeth at the young doctor as he deftly fitted the device that would collect the precious semen. But Collins was accustomed to dealing with the mutants that were brought to his lab on an almost daily basis and he ignored the show with a quiet disdain, finishing his task and moving on to check that all the electrodes were secure.

"Gag the beast when you're through, Collins. His limited attempts at conversation have bored me."

"Yes, doctor." Collins nodded and reached for the metal gag on the trolley beside him. Designed to enter the mouth and keep the subject from biting off his own tongue while the milking procedure was in progress, it also served to inhibit speech – a blessed release when dealing with the more antagonistic of the patients.

Wolverine's eyes grew panicked as the aide approached with the gag, and he actually snapped at the young man's fingers, but Collins was in no mood to let the subject get the better of him. He backhanded the feral harshly across the face to teach him the error of his ways and then held him still while he forced the gag between his lips. Wolverine fought like a demon, but the end result was never in doubt and the aide smiled cruelly at his subject as the last clasps were snapped into place, holding the gag secure.

"I think we're losing him, doctor," the young aide observed, noting the feral's almost pure black eyes and the lack of intelligence within them. "He's going feral. Do you wish to continue?"

"Of course." Kinney's finger hovered over the terminal's keypad, almost stroking them in her desire to play god once more. In truth, she loved her work – valued the sense of achievement it gave her to take the fruits of her labours and create life. It didn't matter that those she persecuted were flesh and blood like herself. They were mutants and therefore less than human in her eyes.

"It won't make any difference to the procedure whether he's lucid enough to enjoy it, or not," she remarked callously, and stabbed her finger down onto the key which would trigger the start of creation.

It was apparent right from the start that Wolverine tried to fight the process. Muscles stood out on his arms and legs as he strained to hold back the un-natural forces which took hold of his body and tried to shape it to its own evil creators' desires, but his efforts were doomed to fail. His resolve to resist being swept aside like so much flotsam by the tide of electrical impulses which flooded his body, Wolverine's back arched off the table and he growled like a madman around the gag in his mouth as he ejaculated forcefully into the collection device.

Collins stepped forward to tag and secure the sample, noting with interest that the subject's erection still held true. The feral's eyes were wild with undisguised fury, sweat slicked his torso and his chest heaved with the exertions of resisting his own impulses to come, but still he managed to put up a show of resistance as the aide fitted another device. The feral was a fine specimen – the best they'd had in a long time – strong, potent and healthy. Collins allowed himself a moment of ironic pride. This subject was sure to produce healthy X-gene positive offspring.

"Do you wish to collect the full twelve samples?" he asked as he took his superior's place at the computer terminal. Kinney had moved away to check the sample already produced by her prized donor, eager to learn if it matched up to her expectations.

"Yes, all twelve," she replied, peering through a digital microscope at the slide below. The findings already looked more than favourable and an insane idea began to form in her mind – one she had entertained previously, but never had the means to carry out. It was bizarre, controversial and definitely unethical, but she had never let that stop her before. "Wait," she demanded, before she could think twice and change her mind.

"Doctor?" Collins turned and waited expectantly for instructions.

"Collect the twelve samples as planned," she began, letting the notion take shape and bloom in her mind even as she laid out her instructions. "But take care to prepare a thirteenth. I have an idea, Collins ….. one that will solve all General Roberts darkest desires and make us the envy of the entire medical profession." She clapped her hands delightedly. "Hurry, Collins! We must proceed with all haste!"

"Yes, doctor!" Collins hurried to the computer terminal, caught up in the fervour of his superior's enthusiasm. Behind him, Kinney secured the original sample, clasping it to her breast as she walked to the operating table, where the feral was already shaking, caught in the throes of another orgasm. She placed her hand on his trembling stomach.

"Shh, there there, puppy. Be calm." She smiled down at her captive as he groaned in helpless agony. "I am sure you and I are destined to become good friends …."

**oooOOOooo**

_Control ….. losing control ….. I ….. I can't hold off the beast much longer ….. he's ….. he's takin' me under …._

_Please ….. don't let me go ….._

By the time my captors have secured their second sample, I am totally feral …..

**oooOOOooo**

_Ah've come to the conclusion, ah really hate the med-lab ….._

It wasn't always this way. I used to be perfectly at home here ….. even considered taking a crash course in medicine so that I could help out down here when the medical staff were stretched too thin. But now ….. lately, I feel uneasy within its metal walls ….. wary ….. like something bad's gonna happen. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, what with being pregnant and all, but I can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't _be_ here. It's driving me crazy …..

If it wasn't for Henry, I wouldn't be here at all, but he wanted to run a few tests while Jean is out of the way, occupied by an early morning Danger Room work-out with Scott and Ororo. Bless him, he knows I'm trying to avoid her. He says nothing, but his sympathy and support are reflected in his eyes whenever he looks at me and I value his understanding.

I wish he'd speed it up though. Four o' clock in the morning isn't exactly a decent hour for a lady in my delicate condition and I really want to get back to my bed and grab a few more ZZ's before I have catalogue those new history books of Ororo's. Just how interesting can a sample of pee be? God, if he's so enraptured by my by-products, what'll happen when he gets to the blood test?

I yawn and glance sideways at my friend and constant companion seated beside me on the examination table. Kitty smiles and squeezes my hand encouragingly. She looks tired and drawn – I know she's been crying herself to sleep lately, but she wouldn't let me come alone, even though she knew Remy was going to keep me company. She says these things need a girl's touch and I guess she's right, because the Cajun is currently engrossed in pacing the length of the med-lab, going back and forth and looking like a caged tiger. He reminds me of Logan sometimes. He's so carefree and laid-back that people forget there's another side to the Cajun – one which he tries to hide and possibly deny. I suspect he's no stranger to bloodshed and strife and these have left their mark in his devilish red eyes if you look deeply enough.

_God, I could really go for a beer right now._ And that surprises me, because I'm not really a alcohol-in-the-morning kinda girl. But the flamin' med-lab's got me so on edge that I feel the need of something to calm me down. Although seriously ….. beer? Is that another side to my inner Logan coming through? He's been kinda quiet lately, but I hear him purring at night when I stroke my stomach and talk to the baby …..

Henry abruptly pushes his chair back with a scrape, makin' me an' Kitty jump and bringing Remy striding back to my side. There's something disturbing in the furry mutant's eyes as he takes off his glasses and polishes them absently on his lab-coat and I hop down off the table as he approaches, meeting him halfway.

"Is there something wrong, doc?" My voice is trembling and I can't seem to catch my breath. "Is there something wrong with m'ah baby?"

"What? Oh no, my dear, your baby is perfectly fine at this stage. However ….." Henry seems strangely distracted and I am barely aware that Kitty has moved to my side. "When did you say you had ceased vomiting in the mornings?"

"A couple of days ago. Why?" I grab the furry mutant's paw, almost dislodging his glasses. "Doc, you're beginning to make me nervous."

Henry looks down at his glasses and slowly places them back on his nose. "My dear, I'm sorry, but I have findings of the utmost importance ….."

"Findings?" My voice is practically a squeak. "What kind of findings? Doc, you told me m'ah baby was fine ….."

"And he is, I assure you. However ….." Henry draws himself up, obviously gathering himself to deliver the news. Unconsciously, I hold my breath. "It seems that your baby has inherited his father's feral qualities."

"Well, that's not so bad," I gasp, letting out the breath I hadn't even realises I'd been holding. "Ah kinda expected that."

"He gonna have fangs, mon ami?" asks Remy, with a frown. "An' de claws?"

"It's too early in the pregnancy to determine the exact nature of your baby's abilities," responds Henry, with a shake of his head. "However, I fear that you have misunderstood me." He pauses and takes my hand, fixing me with a kind but nervous smile. "Rogue, a normal pregnancy runs its term in nine months."

"Well, ah know that, but ….."

"You will be a mother in less than nine weeks. _Weeks,_ Rogue. Do you understand me?"

I can feel all the blood draining from my face. "Nine ….. weeks?"

"Yes, Rogue. Your baby is developing at an incredible rate ….."

Somehow, my brain simply can't assimilate the information. Henry's voice fades away to a distant hum and I am barely aware of Remy's strong arms catching me as I fall in a dead faint …..

Nine weeks …..

**NEXT: **There's something wrong with Logan and it's up to Jubilee to find out what!


	28. Divided We Fall

Hi everyone! Well, this chapter certainly caused one or two problems! I wrote it, then I scrapped it and wrote it again because Logan just didn't seem to be acting right. I know he's going through hell and back at the moment, but the whole thing just didn't sit right with me and I didn't want to do my favourite feral an injustice. So sorry for the delay, but at last it's finished now and is hopefully up to my usual standards!

I can't believe this story actually has 296 reviews! Only four more to go and it will hit the magical 300! Who will provide that landmark review? Only time will tell!

Which leads nicely into my credit list for the last chapter! Many, many thanks to **moviemom44, Comic-cake, alexmonalisa, Devil Rebel, Wolvie'sBiggestFan, Mrstrentreznor, nileena, Laudine**,** Sniktchick **and** notashamedtobesoilyfan. **You're all the greatest!

And now it's time for me to take a back seat as the darkness continues! Onward ... !

**ooXoo**

**28. Divided We Fall**

_I can't do this ….._

I can't go on this way anymore. People ….. my friends ….. are sufferin' because o' me ….. because o' one fuckin' moment of arrogant pride. An' it gets worse ….. because I'm now Kinney's favourite lab-rat, which means I'm screwin' up even more lives. Three times in the last week I've been dragged back to that fuckin' lab an' strapped down to that table. Three times Kinney has milked me dry an' left me hurtin' an' feral. An' it's gettin' harder to pull myself back each time it happens ….. harder to push the beast back down where he belongs. I should be grateful ….. the beast's influence is preserving my sanity, makin' it that much harder for them to break me. But every time I haul myself up from the dark place, I expect to find Jubilee's broken body thrown in a corner of our cell. She tells me I would never hurt her ….. that all I do while I'm feral is pace the cell or curl up in a growlin' ball. But that don't make the worry any easier to bear. I have no control over the beast while I'm feral – what's to stop him from perceiving Jubilee as a threat an' lashin' out at her in anger? What's to stop him from beatin' her to a bloody pulp?

Death would be a blessed release from the horrors o' this place, but I want that death to be quick an' easy ….. the beast will not be so considerate …..

Jubilee an' Tirzah are now the least o' my problems. I have the sufferin' of eleven other women also on my conscience, because I know Kinney is using my seed to artificially impregnate those unfortunates. Their fate was sealed long before I was brought here, but our lives are inexplicably bound now, an' the guilt is eatin' me alive. Worse is the knowledge that Roberts is using my guilt as a means to torture me further … to cause me actual physical an' mental pain without ever havin' to touch me. He was there the last time they used me ….. an' so was Tirzah. They tied me down an' forced me to watch while they worked on her. An' all the time the beast was howlin' an' going crazy an' I couldn't do a thing to help her.

It took a long time to fight my way back from that one …..

I'm tired …. So very tired. An' sick to the stomach o' being used. My heart feels like it's been eaten alive. It could be a result o' the bland food they've been feedin' us, but I suspect my body is tryin' to tell me something is missing. I need my mate ….. she's the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins ….. the very essence o' my life. Without her, I'm nothing.

_I know it's only gonna get worse ….._

She thinks I'm dead. She'll move on. Find another.

_I won't ….._

An' so I've made my decision …. I know what I have to do ….

One way or the other, I gotta end this …..

**oooOOOooo**

Jubilee gasped as the guard pushed her firmly out of the way, leaving his fellows and the handler to crowd her cell-mate back against the wall, hemming him in with sheer weight of numbers. He growled irritably at their rough treatment, receiving a sharp jab with a rifle for his trouble, and Jubilee fretted silently, desperate to step forward and ease the feral's agitation but knowing she would only make things worse if she did. Since his ill-fated escape attempt, security around the feral had been stepped up and now Frost was always accompanied by at least four burly guards, fully armed with pulse rifles, tasers and riot sticks. These guards – she had been confidentially informed by the handler – had been hand-picked for the job due to having friends in the hospital wing, put there by Logan during his escape, and their treatment of the feral was unnecessarily rough. Jubilee found she had tears in her eyes as he was forced against the wall and fitted with gag and blindfold.

The cell door closed with a clang as he was finally dragged from the tiny room and herded down the hallway. Jubilee pressed her face to the bars and watched after him until he disappeared from sight, telling herself that he would be back – that he was the Wolverine, the guy who was scared of nothing and ate mischief-minded students for breakfast. Nothing would take him down and he would be back.

She repeated the mantra silently in her mind and prayed for a miracle.

When she could no longer hear the guards' booted feet stomping down the hallway, she turned and leaned back against the wall, sliding slowly down it until she was hunched on the floor. She felt helpless – insignificant and small – everything around her was spiralling rapidly out of control and she was powerless to resist. She raised her hands, turning them this way and that, looking for some evidence of her mutant ability and knowing she wouldn't find it. The almost limitless power she held literally at her fingertips was useless to her here and she buried her face in those powerless hands, finally giving in to her despair and heaving a shuddering sob.

"S'matta, darlin'?"

The unexpected voice from the direction of the doorway startled her and she scooted around to see Victor peering at her through the bars. She immediately clambered to her feet, batting away her tears with an angry hand and fixing the feral with a scathing glare.

"You have the nerve to come back here after what you did?" she spat, hate flashing in her cornflower blue eyes. "Get out of here, Victor. I don't ever want to see you again."

Victor, however, remained put, allowing a shrug to roll easily across his shoulders. "Thought you might like some company." He winked at her, totally oblivious to her anger. "Y'know, keep you safe from Bonebreaker. I hear he's back on the rounds an' real pissed at you after you had him put under house arrest for that rape stunt."

The news made Jubilee's breath catch, but she had no intention of letting her unease show. "I've been perfectly fine the last few times they've taken Logan away," she declared hotly, hands on hips. "I don't need you. So bugger off, Victor. Go and ruin someone else's life."

Fire seemed to flash in the feral's eyes at Jubilee's harsh words, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it. He sucked at his teeth thoughtfully, studying her for a moment as if expecting her to recant her statement but, when she turned her back and calmly walked to the rear of the cell, he took the hint and shrugged.

"Fine. I'll see ya around, sweetheart."

He turned quickly and moved away, the loose folds of his black greatcoat swishing around his legs as he walked. A snarl formed on his lips, but he would have been hard-pressed to say why if someone had asked. All he knew was that the girl had sent him away and he was powerless to resist.

Jubilee had fully intended to let the feral walk away but, as his footsteps faded, she found herself running to the door, her hands clutching desperately at the bars. "Victor!"

She couldn't see him – he had already moved out of range – but she heard his step falter and then begin to backtrack. She stepped back as he drew level with the door, her breath catching as something unidentifiable flashed in his eyes. He seemed pleased – triumphant even – but she couldn't allow herself to feel intimidated by this. There was something she needed to know and only one person seemed qualified to answer her question.

She drew herself up, regally. "Victor, where are they taking Logan? I need to know. Are they ….. are they experimenting on him?"

Victor snorted. "Not told you then, has he? Well, ain't that just like Jimmy?"

Jubilee folded her arms, crossly. "I wish you'd stop calling him that. His name's Logan."

"No, it ain't," growled Victor in return, all pretence at amiability gone. "That's his father's name. His _real_ father, that is – his an' mine – not the guy he _thought_ was his father."

"But ….."

"Thomas Logan," interrupted Victor, "was the Howlett's grounds keeper. He was also Elizabeth Howlett's lover and, unknown to her husband, the father of her two sons, John and James. Both feral. Like their father. Like me."

Jubilee frowned. "Why the hell are you telling me this?"

"Because I need you to understand." Victor slowly unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, letting it swing closed behind him. Jubilee moistened her lips, nervously. "Jimmy ain't the only feral we've kept here." He paced confidently across the cell as though he owned it, stopping only when he stood directly in front of Jubilee. She craned her neck to look into his face, not even noticing when he took her hands in his. The intensity of his gaze seemed to lock her in place. "He was brought in with a young female – his mate, he said. They were separated, sent to different divisions. A week later, he was dead."

Jubilee recoiled in shock. "Jesus, Victor, are you telling me Logan's gonna _die?"_

Victor shook his head, pulling the girl back to him via the grip he still had on her wrist. "Yer not listening to me, sweetheart. The feral was matebonded – to the female who died less than a week later. So instead of asking where they keep taking Jimmy, maybe you oughta ask yourself this; has he matebonded the little kitty-cat he tried to escape with a week ago? Because if he has, all three o' you are in a whole world o' trouble."

With that, he dropped her hands and strode for the door. Jubilee rocked on her feet unsteadily, shaking her head as though coming out of a dream. She raised a trembling hand to her forehead, fighting the sudden wave of dizziness that washed over her and belatedly beginning to register that she was once again alone in the cell.

"Victor, wait!"

She hurried on shaky legs to the door as the feral closed and locked it behind him. "I don't understand ….."

Victor grinned at her through the bars. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've said all I'm gonna say. The rest is up to you to figure out."

He turned then and walked away, leaving Jubilee to clutch at the bars in his absence, feeling as though the world around her had just done a violent 180% and was threatening to throw her off. The feral's words and actions had surprised and confused her – why the hell would he beat his own brother to a bloody pulp and then offer sensitive information in an obvious bid to help only a week later? What was going on? What were his motives?

She would have been even more surprised to learn that Victor was asking himself the very same questions …..

**oooOOOooo**

Logan was returned to their cell just over two hours later, looking on the verge of collapse as his guards forced him against the wall to remove the gag and blindfold. Frost couldn't even bring himself to meet Jubilee's accusing eyes as he and the guards finished their duty and left her alone with her cell-mate. Only when they were outside in the hallway, with the locked door safely between themselves and the feral, did they release his cuffs. Logan swayed unsteadily on his feet for a moment or two, then slid down the wall with a weary sigh and crawled into the far corner, where he curled up into a ball with his back to his cell-mate. Jubilee could hear him growling softly to himself.

He was obviously feral. Whatever they did to him when they took him away it always released the beast, sending the man spiralling down to the very depths of his soul. It protected him – kept his psyche safe until he was able to claw his way back up into the light – but there was a price. Each time he pulled himself back, his eyes looked more haunted – like a man who had seen things no one should ever witness or survive.

Yet, despite this, Jubilee wasn't afraid of him. She knew she should be – she'd seen him turn feral out on the battlefield more than once. She'd seen the light of humanity fade from his eyes as he howled like a madman, inciting fear among friend and foe alike. She'd seen the destruction wrought by those berserker rages – broken bodies lying like rag-dolls upon the ground. And yet she'd also seen that same feral throw himself in front of a missile meant for a team-mate – taking bullets that would have hit an innocent bystander. So she knew he would never hurt her – she knew this as well as she knew her own name. Some inner sense – instinct perhaps – told her that the Wolverine would never turn on one of his own.

He was hurting now, that much was obvious. His body was shaking as he lay on the floor and Jubilee gave him several minutes to become accustomed to her presence before slowly crouching and crawling on hands and knees to his side. Instinct again told her to approach him on his own level and not to stand over him – an action which could appear threatening and be taken as a challenge to his dominance.

His shoulder trembled under her hand as she settled at his back. "Wolvie?" Her only answer was a soft growl, which ended in something which sounded suspiciously like a yelp. Biting her lip uncertainly, she crawled to their tiny basin, where she filled their single cup with cool water. She also soaked a washcloth and wrung it out until just damp. Their little cache of supplies was steadily growing, thanks to Frost, who frequently managed to 'forget' something on the occasions when he and the other handlers were administering the aH-serum. They now had a toothbrush and some soap, and an extra blanket, which he had pushed through the bars of their cell late one night.

Logan made no acknowledgement of her presence when she returned to him. She placed the cup on the floor and took his arm, pulling gently to let him know she needed him to sit up, but giving him enough room to refuse if he so desired. His hair was slick with sweat and slightly flattened at the back as though he'd been lying on it. Jubilee didn't like to think about what this might mean.

"Logan?" He didn't respond, so she tried another tack. "Wolverine? Come on now, I've got a nice cool cloth to soothe your face."

Whether because of her calming tones or something else entirely, Logan snorted and began to roll over, pushing himself up to lean back against the wall. When Jubilee reached out to help, he growled and she quickly retreated, leaving him to manage on his own. Once he was settled, however, he was willing to let her wash his face and hands with the cloth, only snarling once when she rubbed a little too hard over a rapidly healing welt on one wrist. She shushed him softly and then reached out for the cup of water.

"Here you go. Drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Logan's nostrils flared as he leaned towards the cup, suspicion making him check the contents even though he trusted the bearer. Deciding that he wasn't being poisoned, he took the cup in both hands, gulping greedily and spilling most of it down his bare chest.

"Hey hey, take it easy." Jubilee eased the cup away from his lips, fearful of him inhaling a mouthful of water and choking. He growled irritably at her, but she ignored him and waited until he had settled before allowing him to have it back. "Don't you dare growl at me, fuzzy," she reprimanded as he resumed drinking, this time a little more slowly. He eyed her cautiously over the rim of the cup and she wagged her finger at him. "I'm only trying to help. Or would you prefer me to let you choke yourself to death? Try explaining that to the Weapon X dudes, huh?"

He snorted at her and Jubilee rocked back on her haunches, watching him as he returned his attention to the precious water. She didn't know if he could understand her in his feral state, but he seemed to respond to her now and then and she was content to chatter to him whether he understood or not. It made her feel better to think that the man inside the beast was listening to her and hastening to be with her once more.

Logan let the empty cup fall to his knees and Jubilee reached out to pick it up. "You feel better now, huh? You want some more? Logan?"

Her cell-mate had never spoken to her while in his feral state and she didn't expect him to. She wasn't even sure he _could_ speak while feral – the files she had read had certainly made no mention of it. But as she made to back off and return the cup to its place on the basin, he made a grab for her hand and the tone of his growl took on an entirely different tone.

"Grrrr …. mmm … errrrr ….."

"Christ, Logan, did you speak?" Jubilee reached for his hand, bringing it to her cheek. "What do you want? Tell me."

"….. mmm ….. mmore …"

Jubilee jumped as though burned. The word was rough and mangled by the feral's half growl, but the intent was clear. Her heart thumping, the young mutant grabbed the cup and refilled it, passing it to her cell-mate with shaking hands. He spilt some of it as he took it to his lips, but managed to get most of it inside him, gulping thirstily. Jubilee hunkered down at his side once more, her skin tingling with excitement at the thought of talking – actually having a coherent conversation with the beast that Logan always claimed resided inside him. He'd asked for water! Not a vague gesture or a growl, but an actual word. And while this didn't really qualify as a conversation, Jubilee was full of anticipation. Had she done the impossible? Had she tamed the beast?

And then Victor's words eased their way back into her mind and she shuddered at a feeling like icy water flowing down her spine. Could she ask? Would Logan understand what she was trying to say? Would he be able to answer? Would he even care?

She had to know. If there was even the slightest possibility that Logan could answer her, she had to try. The consequences of _not_ knowing were just too awful to contemplate.

"Logan?" The feral had tilted his head back against the wall – his eyes were closed and he didn't even acknowledge her query. She tried again. "Wolverine? Wolverine, look at me."

Her heart jumped as his eyes opened, fixing her with a gaze that was so intense she almost held her breath for fear the sound of it would startle him. She knew she should have her brain looked at for even contemplating what she was about to do, but Victor's words had frightened her and if there was any way she could help her team-mate she had to take the bull by the horns and try. What was the worst that could happen after all …..?

….._ Dead within the week ….._

"Wolverine, do you …. do you have ….." She took a breath and tried again. "Do you have a mate?" Her voice trembled as she spoke the words and she half wondered if he would take this as a sign of weakness and consider her prey. She leant back slightly, putting herself out of immediate reach, but realising how futile the action was even as she did it – his powerful muscles could launch his metal-laden frame faster than the eye could follow. If he truly wished to do her harm, no amount of distance would save her.

But he merely cocked his head to the side and studied her intently, his eyes reflecting nothing but curiosity and his sharp growl ending on an upward note as though asking her to repeat the question.

Jubilee took strength from the fact that she was still alive and not lying on the floor with three claws buried in her heart. She decided to press forward. "A mate, Wolvie? Y'understand? The girl you tried to escape with – is she your mate?"

Wolverine snorted brusquely, making Jubilee's hair stir in the force of it. " ….. Mmmm ….. mate ….."

"Yeah, that's it!" Jubilee clapped her hands delightedly and Wolverine rumbled in disapproval of the sharp noise. "Now stick with me here, okay, big guy?" She was practically buzzing with the elation of accomplishing something no one else had ever been able to do. "Is the girl your mate, Wolvie." She hoped repetition would prove the key to unlocking his vocal capabilities. "Come on, you can do it. Your mate, Wolvie …."

Wolverine huffed suddenly and turned away, his eyes dark and brooding. "Hey, what's wrong? What did I say? Logan …..?"

"…Mmm ….. M'rie ….."

"Marie? Is that the girl's name? Wolvie?" His head had drooped and she put her fingers under his chin and gently raised it, forcing him to look at her. "Is the girl your mate, Wolvie?" Her voice was soft and gentle, breathless with anticipation and the need to know.

The feral's body shook, his lips trembling as he struggled to connect with the human side of his psyche and form the words. " ….. Nnnno….. mate ….. not catseye …. Rrrrrrr … Rogue ….."

"Catseye? Who the hell's Catseye …..? Oh! Oh, wait a minute …" Jubilee gasped and paled as she suddenly registered what the feral had said. "Rogue? Did you say …..? Oh shit! Wolvie, is Rogue ….. _our_ Rogue ….. your mate?"

Wolverine snorted and wrenched his chin out of the girl's loose grasp, turning away to shuffle further into the corner as though hiding from the memory of the one he had left behind. His plaintive whimper almost broke Jubilee's heart and she cursed herself for making him remember. She reached for him, intending to comfort, but thought better of it when she realised that his feral nature would never understand the concept of a hug. It would be embarrassing at the very least to be tackled to the ground by an enraged feral simply because he had thought himself under attack. Instead, she settled for hunkering down as close as she dared, letting him know by her presence that she was there if he needed her, and unconsciously providing the very comfort his feral nature understood and required. Unaware of this, she fussed with the washcloth in her hands, her mind a maelstrom of conflicting emotions as she struggled to come to terms with the implications of the Wolverine's admission.

Because Victor was right …..

They were up shit creek without a paddle or the faintest hope of rescue and a tidal wave was bearing down on them. Her feral companion was matebonded to the one person who was too far away to help and who probably thought them dead. And, if Victor was to be believed, Logan was in imminent danger of keeling over and pining away at any moment.

_What was that he'd said …._?

_Oh yeah ….._

_A whole world o' trouble …_

**oooOOOooo**

It's quiet in the library after school hours. Most of the students avoid the place like the plague and only come here when forced to check out a book or look something up for a test, so I have the place to myself once classes are over for the day. Their loss, really. They don't know what they're missing. Me, I love books with their soft crinkly pages and wealth of information. I could hide away here all day, curled up in the big old leather chair by the window where I can look out and see Ororo's rose garden. It's peaceful here – the normal noise of the mansion can't seem to penetrate the protective shield of knowledge that lines the walls and I can almost forget what I've lost.

_And what I'm about to gain …_

I haven't been here long – the book I am reading is still in the opening chapters, but Mr Bingley and his party make their opening appearance at Netherfield just as the library door slowly opens and a tousle-haired head peers into the room. I rest 'Pride and Prejudice' on the arm of the chair as Remy LeBeau closes the door carefully behind him with his foot and navigates a path through the desks and chairs towards my favourite spot. He is carrying a small tray containing two steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of biscuits and I almost giggle at the image.

_I never figured Remy LeBeau for a waiter ….._

"What're ya doing here, Remy?" I ask, as he places the tray on a coffee table and pulls it to the side of my chair. "Ah thought Piotr was organising a pool marathon in the rec room?"

"He is, chere." Gambit pauses to pull up another chair and sits in it, facing me. "But Remy, he not seen his petite for a long time now. Needed to know you're alright."

"Ah'm okay, Remy. Honest." The coffee smells good and I reach out for a mug, cradling it in my hands and savouring the delicious aroma. Remy makes the best coffee this side o' the Mississippi.

When I take a sip, I catch a pair of red-on-black eyes studying me intently over the rim. "What?" I ask, feigning nonchalance.

"Remy not t'ink you're 'okay', chere. He t'ink you're faking."

"Well, maybe Remy ought to 't'ink' again, 'cause ah'm fine." I put down the mug with a little more force than necessary, slopping coffee over the biscuits. My hand is shaking as I pull it back and I pray to God that Remy hasn't noticed, but those sharp eyes of his usually miss nothing and, sure enough, he frowns as I cross my arms determinedly across my chest. I turn away to look out of the window, letting a sad sigh ghost past my lips. I shouldn't be angry with Remy. It's not _his_ fault after all and he's only trying to help. "Go on back to your game, Remy," I say, more gently this time. "Ah'll be fine."

"No." There's something in the Cajun's tone which draws my attention – his face is hard – unreadable – but there's a determination to the set of his features which has me scurrying for cover. To put some space between us I quickly stand and move to the window, looking out into the fading light and seeing my own haunted image reflected in the glass. _When did my eyes begin to look so tired …..?_

Remy moves up behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders and I jerk away. "Don't ….."

"Quit fighting me, chere ….." Remy grabs my wrist, pulling me into his embrace and wrapping me in the warm protection of his arms. I struggle in his grasp, bracing my hands against his chest and pushing with all my might, but years of athletic training has made the Cajun strong and I am helpless to resist as he simply holds me and lets me fight myself out. I am angry ….. frightened ….. aroused … a thousand emotions surge over me all at once and then suddenly I can't do this anymore – I can't hide everything behind a façade and hope it all goes away. I am alone, yes, but I have no need to be …..

I feel Remy stiffen as I go limp in his arms and I bury my face in his shirt, heaving great shuddering sobs as my own fears and insecurity surges up to overwhelm me. Remy holds me tighter, squashing me against his body as his hands begin to stroke my back, my hair, my arms, his soft voice crooning words of hope and encouragement, oblivious to the snot I am dribbling down his shirt front.

"Oh god, Remy, ah ….. ah'm so _scared."_ The admission is out of my mouth before I can stop it and once the floodgates are open there's no holding the torrent back. "Ah thought ah had come to terms with being a mother – with having a baby that would most likely turn out to be feral. But this ….. m'ah baby will be born in less than eight weeks, Remy. It scares me so much!"

Remy pushes me back then so he can look at me, wiping away my tears with his thumb and smoothing back my hair. "Don' be afraid, chere. Remy will look after you. Dat a promise."

The words sound so familiar and I hiccup in my tears, trying to draw breath as I flounder in a whirlpool of memories. _Logan ….._ I twist my head away, denial and acceptance fighting for dominance of my emotions, but he hooks a finger under my chin and gently eases me back, forcing me to look into his eyes – eyes which capture my soul and release a longing I thought I had lost when my lover died. My heart is pounding painfully and, somewhere at the back of my mind, the Wolverine is growling …..

"Remy t'inks he loves you, chere."

I gasp then, my breath catching as his lips brush mine hesitantly, as if I am something delicate to be cherished. "Please ….." I whisper, and I don't know whether I am begging for more or for him to let me go, but when his arms tighten around me and begin to pull me into his chest I follow willingly.

"Let Remy look after you, chere," he breathes, his face so close to mine, and then his lips crash down to take my mouth with their sweetness and I moan with desire, kissing him back with a passion that frightens me. I need this – I'm afraid to be alone.

_Remy will take care of me ….._

With my heart aflame, I allow my new lover to tilt my body back as he deepens the kiss …..

**NEXT:** The thirteenth female is revealed!


	29. Unlucky Thirteen

Hello there! Welcome to another chapter! According to some of the comments I've been receiving, it seems that several of my readers are bored with the fact that Wolvie and Rogue have been apart for so long and are campaigning for the plot to continue! First off, let me assure you that our tortured lovers will be re-united in a VERY near chapter! And secondly ... are you REALLY sure that you want them to get together again ...? *Evil laugh* (Shameless plug for the mayhem that is sure to follow!)

All that aside, I have to thank each and every one of you for your continued support! Major kudos to** Comic-cake, moviemom44 -** (congratulations on being my 300th reviewer!) -** jnetrich, nileena, alexmonalisa, AmeliaJade326, notashamedtobesoilyfan, immiD **and** Laudine!**

The plot is now due to thicken, so onward ... the saga continues ... !

**ooXoo**

**29. Unlucky Thirteen**

"Are you telling me it hasn't worked? That _none_ of our females are pregnant?" General Steven Roberts stalked across the lab to glare at the information being displayed on Kinney's computer screen. Nothing he saw there pleased him in any way, shape or form and he turned to glower at the doctor herself. "I thought you said he was fertile?"

"He is. He's the most sexually potent male I've ever had the privilege to work on." Kinney reached out to toggle a key on the board, bringing up another page of data. "See here? According to my research, every one of our females should be carrying the feral's offspring by now. Yet they're not. Why?"

Roberts waited, recognising the rhetorical question for what it was. The doctor's methods of self-examination irked him, but she was the best in her field and he couldn't deny the excellent results she had produced in the past. Their strike force already boasted two fully grown mutant 'weapons' among their number and there were four more in the nursery currently being conditioned, so he couldn't fault her methods. She desired fame the way he desired the extermination of all mutant kind and it was for this reason alone he was prepared to cut her some slack.

"Our females have been bred or conditioned to be super-fertile," Kinney continued, frowning at the data on the screen. "The feral's sperm count is phenomenal – almost off the scale – so there are no doubts as to his virility. The two factors working as one should yield incredible results, yet the instant his semen is administered to a female, it simply becomes …" Kinney shook her head in disbelief, " ….. for want of a better word, inert. We may as well be impregnating them with common water." She snorted. "Frankly, I don't understand it. Logic dictates that this shouldn't be possible, yet our research speaks for itself. Not one of our females has quickened."

"So the feral is useless here." Roberts came directly to the point, unwilling to beat around the bush. He turned from the computer. "I'll have him withdrawn from the programme. He's more use to us in the field anyway and we have a client in need of his services."

"General, wait." Kinney reached out to stop him, arresting her hand just inches from the soldier's arm, remembering how he hated to be touched by his subordinates.

He raised an eyebrow, giving her permission to speak.

Kinney cleared her throat. She had to be very careful now how she proceeded, otherwise she would not get what she desired so badly. "General, I have another project under way at this time, the results of which have so far proved most fruitful. I would appreciate maintaining access to the feral until his services are no longer required."

Roberts spread his feet and locked his hands behind his back. "And the nature of this project is …..?"

Kinney hesitated for just the briefest of moments, choosing her words carefully. She was reluctant to reveal her research before she had any tangible results to show for it but she also knew that, without the General's approval, her project could be terminated before it had even begun. He was an ambitious man, but expected everyone beneath him in the hierarchy to toe the line. However, the saving grace for Kinney was that he also craved his own army of human weapons and would go to any lengths to get it. All she had to do was appeal to his own overblown sense of superiority.

The minimum of information should suffice …..

"The feral's seed remains viable as long as it is not administered to a female," Kinney began, trying not to appear too eager. "Therefore, fertilising the egg _outside_ the body should produce favourable results."

Roberts considered this. "A reasonable expectation," he finally admitted. "Alright. You may retain your access to the feral for a while longer, but I expect to be kept informed of any and all developments."

Kinney nodded. "Of course, General. I would not consider otherwise."

"The full resources of this facility are at your disposal as per usual, doctor." Roberts turned to walk away, but paused and looked back as he neared the door. "However, I would be appreciative of your efforts not to main any of our females during the course of your experiment, doctor. Good specimens are expensive to replace."

Kinney shook her head. "I have no intention of harming any of our breeders, General. The procedure is quite straightforward and I have performed it many times."

A true if not slightly evasive admission. If everything went according to plan, her creation would never experience the nurturing womb of a natural mother.

The audience at an end, Roberts nodded curtly and strode from the lab, his boot heels clicking smartly on the pristine tile floor. Only when the metal doors had slid closed behind him did Kinney allow herself the luxury of a smile.

"Collins! There isn't a moment to lose!"

The aide, who had been sorting samples on the other side of the lab, now hurried to his superior's side. "The nutrient incubator is ready as ordered, doctor. Would you like me to prepare a female?"

Kinney didn't answer immediately, but left her aide waiting expectantly to stand beside the rectangular incubator, running her fingers almost lovingly along the transparent hood. Inside, a greenish-blue viscous liquid stirred sluggishly under the effects of the electrical impulses being passed through it and a phalanx of computer terminals, banked around the incubator like a row of silent sentinels, read off each and every reaction. The screens were barely functional now, but Kinney knew that in a few short hours they would be teeming with vital information and she smiled, sensing the biological breakthrough within her grasp.

It was time to play god …..

Embracing the emotional detachment which allowed her to experiment on her fellow human beings without remorse, Kinney began to articulate her plan. "If my assumptions are correct, Collins, none of our females will now bear fruit to the feral's seed. Their usefulness to us is at an end." She turned, letting the cruel light of ambition shine in her eyes. "However, there is a thirteenth female in this facility – one which the feral's seed has not been conditioned to reject – and it's time she began earning her keep. Bring her here. Immediately!"

"Yes, doctor!"

And the aide scampered off, eager to do his master's bidding …..

**oooOOOooo**

"Why didn't you tell us?"

I grunt noncommittally an' feign a sudden interest in the cuffs surrounding my hands. I haven't been myself for long an' I can still feel the beast's influence rattlin' around in my head, makin' me even less sociable than usual. Jubilee, however, seems not to take my reluctance to talk as a reasonable answer an' comes to sit beside me on the cot, her face concerned. I turn away, tryin' not to let her see that my hands are shakin'.

"Wolvie?" The touch on my shoulder is gentle, but I shrug it off before I even realise I may upset the kid's feelings. "You can't stay silent for ever," she persists. "You've gotta talk about it some time."

"Ain't nothin' to talk about," I growl in return. My voice is rough, tainted by the shadow o' the beast hovering just under the surface o' my psyche an' by my own embarrassment. Seems I did some talkin' while I was feral an' the kid has learned one or two things about my relationship with Marie. As if I ain't got enough to worry about. Now I gotta deal with a chatty alter-ego who seems to enjoy spillin' my private life to all an' sundry.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, y'know." Kid hits the nail right on the head. "I think it's wonderful that the two of you have connected. But why didn't you tell us?"

"T'ain't nobody's business but our own." I snort loud enough to make the kid jump an' treat her to a snarl that displays my elongated canines to full effect. "Would appreciate it if ya didn't go blabbin' it around, darlin'."

"They don't know, do they?" Jubilee flicks a hand towards the door in a gesture intended to take in the entire facility.

I shake my head. "No. An' I intend to keep it that way. If they find out that me an' Rogue – Marie – are matebonded, they'll realise her potential an' go outta their way to get her here. I won't have that, ya understand me? I won't have her involved in this."

The thought of Marie – my mate – being locked up in this place an' being used to keep me docile – or worse, being used as a breeder – brings a snarl to my lips an' I jerk to my feet, pacing to the door an' back in an effort not to smash something. Jubilee watches me make a round trip, her expression thoughtful.

"I think Victor suspects something, Wolvie," she finally admits.

"_Rrrrraaaghh!"_The savage growl comes easily to my lips at the mention of my brother – if I had access to my claws I know I woulda popped 'em by now. I round on Jubilee so fast my bare foot squeaks on the cold floor tiles.

"Ya keep away from Creed, y'hear me, kid?" He's bad news an' as crazy as they come. He'll drag ya down with him if he gets half the chance."

Jubilee bristles visibly at my words. "Well, the next time he comes calling I'll make myself scarce, shall I? Maybe take a trip to the local mall. Will that be okay? Because I really don't have many options open to me here."

She turns her back to me, folding her arms crossly, an' I curse myself for my lack of understanding. What the hell was I thinking? Where did I expect her to go?

I start forward. "Jubilee …..?"

"Aw, heck Wolvie, I'm sorry!" The kid launches herself off the cot an' into my chest with such force that she actually manages to rock me back a step. "I didn't mean to snap at you, honest. It's just ….. I ….."

"S'okay, kid," I manage to force out. She's clinging to me as though I'm a lifeline in a stormy sea an' I hesitate a moment before wrapping my own arms around her tiny body. "No harm done. This place is enough to set anybody on edge. So hush, now."

"But you're shaking!" Jubilee pulls back slightly an' looks up at me an' I make a valiant attempt to appear nonchalant. "I'm angry, kid. Not with you – with Victor. He's got no right to go filling your head with fancy notions. Who the hell does he think he is?"

I snort an' turn away to glare out o' the door an' I sense Jubilee watchin' me for a second or two before returning to her place on the cot. I don't know what she's thinkin', but I'm pretty sure she's wonderin' if I'm gonna lose it again. I'm displayin' all the classic signs o' turnin' feral – my skin is crawlin' an' my temper feels like it's on a fuse so short it's a miracle I haven't gone off like a rocket.

_Why can't I stop shakin' …?_

"What did he tell you?" I ask. It's an attempt to distract myself, but I must admit to a certain amount o' curiosity. What could possibly have got the kid so riled up she'd risk questioning my feral side?

Instead of answering right away, Jubilee yawns widely, covering her mouth quickly with her hand. "Oh geez! Sorry!" She frowns, recollecting my brother's words. "He wondered if you had bonded the girl you escaped with, Wolvie."

"Tirzah?"

"Is that her name? You called her Catseye while you were all growly-like."

"I did?" I've always suspected my feral side views things differently, but I didn't realise this extended to giving people alternate names. Catseye. Suits her perfectly – her eyes are her most startling feature an' obviously made an impression on my inner beast.

Speakin' o' makin' an impression though, I'd better keep a tighter rein on him around Jubilee in future. If she's got him opening up to her so easily, she'll have him jumpin' through hoops next.

I frown at the image this invokes an' clear my throat, gruffly. "Go on," I prompt.

Jubilee looks unsettled. "I really don't think I ought to say anything further," she hedges.

I toss her a glare an' the kid rethinks her strategy, telling me everything she can remember. It don't make easy listenin'. If my brother is to be believed, I'm gonna keel over an' die at any moment. I can't say I've ever known it to happen but, with my memory being what it is, ferals coulda been droppin' like flies around me an' I'd never remember.

"Is it true?" Jubilee is sittin' on the very edge o' the cot, her face drawn.

I shake my head an' lean against the wall by the door. "I don't know," I admit, reluctantly.

"Why not?"

"How the hell do _I_ know?" I drag my fingers irritably through my hair. "Christ, kid, I've never been matebonded before – leastways, not so's I can remember. I'm just makin' all this up as I go along."

"Well, you think you could make up a couple of pick-axes while you're at it, so we could dig our way outta here? Or better yet, a nice sleek black jet with a super-powered rescue party?" Jubilee breaks off to yawn so wide her jaw cracks. She smothers it with her hands.

"Geez, kid, what's the matter with you?"

"I dunno ….. feel kinda sleepy all of a sudden. Maybe I should take a nice nap …..?"

An' the kid drops sideways to the cot, landin' with a muffled thump on the thin blanket.

"What the …..?" I jerk away from the wall an' cross the cell in two strides, droppin' to my knees at the side o' the cot. "Jubilee? Kid, what the hell's wrong with you?"

My hand shakes violently as I reach out to nudge her shoulder an' sudden realisation comes crashin' home.

….. My shakes ….. Jubilee's tiredness ….. the crawlin' o' my skin …..

The bastards have upped the dose o' suppressant to the cell an' they're tranqing us …..

I surge to my feet, puttin' myself between the kid an' the door even as a wave o' dizziness almost knocks me to my knees again. Staggerin', I steady myself by droppin' into a half crouch an' spreadin' my feet, lettin' an' agitated growl reverberate around my chest. _Why the hell didn't I listen to what my body was telling me? _My inner beast knew something was wrong – was straining to be let free, an' I ignored the warnings. I oughta be fuckin' horsewhipped …..

_I've put us both in terrible danger ….. again ….._

I'm tryin' to hold my breath now, but I know it ain't gonna do me a whole lotta good. I've already taken in too much o' the drug an' its effects are slowly takin' control o' my body. Against all my best efforts to remain upright, my knees inevitably give out an' I crash to the floor, snarling as the room starts to spin crazily around me. I feel as though I've just gone ten rounds with Colossus – _so tired ….. so fuckin' tired. But I gotta stay awake ….._

_Can't let 'em take me like this ….._

I am barely conscious when four men I haven't seen before unlock the cell door an' enter. Weakly, I struggle to roll over an' get to my knees, but I'm tremblin' so badly I can barely move. One o' the men laughs an' pokes me with his rifle.

"Don't bother tryin' to get up, mutie. You ain't going anywhere."

_I'm ….. not ….?_ My heart clenches painfully as his words register. _My god ….. they haven't come for me ….. _

_They've come for the kid ….._

Despite my obvious lack o' strength to fight, two o' the men cover me with their rifles, makin' sure I stay down. One stays near the door, while the fourth strides to the cot an' reaches down for Jubilee. Sheer willpower is the only thing keepin' me conscious by now, but from somewhere I manage to summon the strength to reach for his ankle, grasping at his fatigues with weak fingers. He kicks my hand away with a quick jerk of his foot an' hauls Jubilee to his shoulder.

"Just be glad this ain't you, mutie," he tells me callously, an' I howl silently as he strides from the cell with his prize.

I am unconscious before his companions join him out in the hallway …..

**oooOOOooo**

I awake an hour later with a pain in my belly an' a headache the size o' Nebraska. The first thing I do is crawl to the toilet an' empty my stomach o' the remains o' my last meal. The overdose o' suppressant has left me feeling dizzy an' nauseous an' my healing factor is workin' overtime to throw off the effects. I suspect I shouldn't even be awake yet, an' the resulting conflict between the drug an' my own miraculous system is taxin' my endurance to the limits. I feel edgy an' anxious. Worse, the beast is pacin' on the fringes o' my awareness, demanding to be set free.

I know before I've even finished heaving that I'm alone in the cell an' my heart howls in silent anguish at the thought o' what they're doing to the kid right now. Hauling my tortured body to its feet, I slam my cuffed fist repeatedly into the wall beside me, hoping that the pain will make me forget the kind o' suffering these people can – and will – inflict on those they consider inferior to themselves but knowing, even as the blood begins to flow, that nothing I could do will stave off the rage that is building inside me. The sense o' failure is so acute that I can almost taste it – no amount o' pain will ever be able to atone for what I've done and, as my fingers split open an' heal time after time, I let the beast free an' storm across the cell to fling the cot an' its contents to the opposite wall. I throw back my head an' allow my pain to manifest as a howl that reaches deep down inside an' makes my throat bleed with the intensity of it. When it heals, I howl again.

Unfortunately, all this accomplishes is that I get another snootful o' the suppressant. The beast fights it, flinging itself at the walls an' door, beatin' at the bars with cuffed hands, heedless o' the blood that is running from damaged hands.

By the time I go under once more, I am totally feral …

**oooOOOooo**

There's something warm pressed against my side. It trembles as if cold an' I open my eyes to find my youngest cub curled up on the floor beside me. She's rolled up tight with her back to me as if to make herself seem small an' insignificant an' for a moment I take the time to admire her instincts. Small an' insignificant – she won't be noticed by the other predators that way. Then the sharp tang o' salt reaches my nostrils an' I rumble a query, reachin' out to touch her shoulder.

She instantly jerks as if shot an' I growl a warning, only to cut it off sharply as the cub rolls over to face me an' flings herself into my arms. She gasps my name over an' over an' I manoeuvre both of us to our knees, nuzzling my nose into her hair, reaffirming the connection between us an' letting her know I am here even as the presence o' her soothes my own fears.

_Peace, little one. Your Alpha is here._

For some reason, my actions only make the tears fall faster an' I pull her close, enfoldin' her in my arms an' pushin' my nose into her neck. This close, I can smell the stink o' chemicals an' whitecoats on her skin an' my hackles rise as a low growl vibrates deep in my chest. Nightmarish images o' past times flash, unbidden, in my mind an' I jerk as the imagined pain of a thousand tiny needles pierces my body.

The cub's hand on my face brings me back an' I rumble to let her know I am well, allowing the deep vibrations to soothe my own insecurities as well as hers. She is still weeping. The tears are running silently down her cheeks, an' I huff in surprise when she wraps her arms around my waist an' buries her face in my shoulder. In halting words she begins to tell me where the men with painsticks took her an' I remember then – remember the men taking her away an' my heart is sad because I couldn't save her. She tells me what she's seen – and, more slowly, what was done to her. I don't understand most of her words, but I have first hand experience o' the shiny rooms an' I know that the whitecoats are capable of inflictin' nothin' but pain an' misery on our kind. I share her grief, instinct telling me that my cub will never be the same now she has been tainted by the men in white an' I mourn the loss of her innocence.

Allowin' my growl to resonate within me so that I almost seem to vibrate with the intensity of it, I begin to rock my body, soothin' the cub as she sniffles into my shoulder. The movement is alien to me, but I recognise the guiding influence of the man, an' his gentle assurances that this is the right thing to do calms my troubled mind. An' so I allow him to guide my actions, trustin' in his ability to ease our combined pain an' make things right.

The cub cries until her throat is hoarse an' her eyes are red an' swollen. I try to let her go then, but she clings to me, fearful o' being left alone an' so I continue to hold her, purring all the while as she finally calms an' begins to fall asleep against me.

By the time her breathin' deepens, the feral has receded an' I am in control once more …..

But I continue to hold her …. and to purr ….. until the ghosts around us have gone away …..

**NEXT:** Escape! 'Nuff said!


	30. Come with Me if You Want to Live

Hi everyone! Okay, first off, I am so sorry for leaving you for so long without an update, but I have had a nasty chest infection for the last couple of weeks, which unfortunately led to complications with my asthma. Which in turn, led to me having to take a week off work. At Christmas! This is usually our busiest time of the year and I feel ever so guilty for letting my workmates down, but I was in no state to face the customers! Anyway, feeling much better now, and able to get this latest chapter uploaded! Was originally trying for a Christmas Day treat but, as this latest offering is longer than normal, it took ages to type up!

Secondly, many many thanks to Laudine for suggesting the awesome cliffhanger at the end of this chapter! I'm not going to give it away and spoil everything for you at this stage - I'll just say that I'll see you at the end of the page!

As usual, I am extremely grateful to my band of loyal reviewers - many thanks to **moviemom44, Comic-cake, Laudine, Devil Rebel, tanya2byour21, Mrstrentreznor, alexmonalisa, notashamedtobesoilyfan, nileena **and **Ryromaniac! **You are all awesome!

And now, without further ado from me, the mayhem awaits! Onward ...!

**ooXoo**

**30. Come with Me if You Want to Live**

The passage o' time has no relevance here. The light in the cells hardly ever dims an' the constant coming an' going o' the guards who administer the serum has my body clock so screwed up that I can hardly say whether we've been here for three weeks, three months or even three fuckin' years. I tell myself it's for the best. Maybe this way I can stave off the hopelessness that Jubilee suspects is my future. Maybe this way, I can survive.

I lay curled around the kid for a long time after I wake, just listenin' to her breathe an' prayin' for a miracle. I think I've said before that I'm not a god-fearin' man – with all the shit that's happened in my life, I find it hard to believe that an all-seeing benevolent entity would condone such acts o' barbarism. But I've long wondered if there's a feral god out there somewhere. One which protects fucked up crazies like me an' turns a blind eye to the atrocities his subjects commit while under control o' their beasts. I don't expect my pleas for salvation to be answered, but who can it hurt by tryin'? I doubt anyone would care either way.

When I hear the sound o' booted feet coming down the hallway, I snort an' shake the kid gently. She stirs an' then stiffens, rolling over to face me with eyes wide in alarm. I hate to make things worse than they already are, but if the guards are coming to our cell I wanna be on my feet an' ready for 'em.

An' if they've come for the kid again, they're gonna be very, very sorry.

Tryin' to ignore the look o' horror in her eyes, I jerk my head towards the door. "Get behind me, darlin'. Somebody's coming."

She scrambles instantly to her feet, backin' off into a corner behind the overturned cot, leavin' me to stand an' face the door alone. I tilt my head left, right – takin' strange comfort from the satisfying crack o' my adamantium laced bones an' letting' my claws slide forwards in my forearms until I can feel the tips nudging against the skin between my knuckles. The urge to pop 'em fully is so strong I could howl with frustration an' I allow the pain an' anger to focus my mind, watchin' in fascination as a drop o' blood oozes from beneath my left cuff an' splashes to the floor. If anyone tries to harm my cub today, their blood will join mine …..

I tense, ready to spring, as the guards stop at our door, only to relax slightly as I recognise the familiar features of Frost an' his two flunkies. They enter the cell slowly, looking around in obvious surprise at the carnage I wrought while in my feral state.

"What the hell happened here?" demands Kelly, an' I shrug carelessly.

"Spring cleanin'?"

Frost tosses me a suspicious glance, but says nothing as he sets his equipment case on the overturned cot. I am expectin' to see the now familiar vials o' serum when he opens it, but instead he reveals the head-gear I wore on my first – and so far, only – mission.

"Oh no ….." Jubilee's exclamation is soft an' breathy an' she comes to stand beside me as Frost picks up the visor carefully with both hands.

"I'm sorry, Wolverine," he tells me, an' I can believe he means it. "Please stand against the wall."

Kelly an' DaCosta waggle their rifles to remind me o' the penalty for refusin' an' I turn an' place my hands against the wall with a sigh. So some poor bastard has been marked for termination an' I'm the guy who's gonna take him down. I can't help but feel sorry for him, whoever he is. Don't get me wrong – I'm no saint. I've carried out my full share o' assassinations in my time an' never batted an eye. But every last one of 'em deserved what they got an' I don't regret my part in their deaths. But the guys Roberts wants dead? They're normal folks who are guilty o' nothing more than believing humans an' mutants should be able to live together in peace. They should be supported an' encouraged, not marked for death by cowards who get the very mutants they despise to do their dirty work for 'em. An' they call _me _an animal …

Frost quickly fits the head-gear into place an' I feel a moment's disorientation as he plugs the jack into the port in the back o' my neck. Shakin' my head to clear it, I feel Jubilee's hand on my arm an' look down into her clear blue eyes.

"Where's he being sent?" she asks, softly.

Frost shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you that."

"Can ya at least tell me if I'm gonna get my boots back?" I nod sharply downwards to my feet, unable to do more than that as I'm still pressed against the wall by the Bobsy Twins. "I ain't exactly dressed fer combat, in case it's escaped yer notice."

"Don't worry your head about that, feral." Kelly pokes me in the side with his rifle an' I growl, sharply. "We'll get you kitted up for business in no time at all."

_Yeah, I'm sure ya will, ya heartless bastard._ I rumble agitatedly in my chest as Frost reaches into his case for the device that will magnetise my cuffs, an' then we both hesitate as the sound o' footsteps echoes along the hallway. I turn my face to the door with a snarl on my lips, expectin' to see Victor, but the snarl evolves into a full-on roar as Bonebreaker appears in the doorway.

"_**Rrrruuuuaaaghhhhh!"**_

Chaos reigns in the tiny cell as I strain to push away from the wall, cries of "Hold him!" and "Oh my god!" ringin' in my ears. It takes the strength of all three guards to hold me in place as Bonebreaker strides in as though he owns the place, flipping me off as he passes which only makes me howl in fury. Jubilee, I am still lucid enough to note, backpeddles quickly, squeezing herself into the tiny space between the toilet an' the wall, an' I am reminded strangely o' Tirzah.

"Don't ya dare touch her!" I roar, fightin' the men at my back for all I am worth, but they've got me pinned in such a way that I can hardly move an' I may as well be glued there for all the good my strugglin' does me.

Bonebreaker ignores me, advancin' slowly on Jubilee, who's face has gone deathly white at the memory o' what the bastard nearly did to her the last time I was on a mission. He reaches out an' catches her wrist, pullin' her to him so roughly that she doesn't have the time to scream. My own howl echoes around the cell.

"Thought you an' me could have some fun while your cell-mate is away," he tells her, an' only just manages to evade the punch she throws at his chin. At least she ain't frozen in fear – she's gonna fight him – but he catches her free hand an' squeezes her wrist so tightly she gasps in pain, wringin' an answerin' whine o' helplessness from my own throat. "Gonna be feisty, eh?" he continues. "I like that. Just don't go kickin' me in the balls like last time, eh? Gonna need 'em, for what I've got planned for you."

Frost edges away from me, leavin' me to the care of his two companions. "I really don't think you should be doing this, 'breaker. Remember what Roberts said the last time ….?"

"Ah, shut the hell up, ya pansy-ass coward! Ain't nothin' gonna happen. Creed's away on a mission an' the chickie owes me a good fuck in payment for havin' me put under house arrest." He grins cruelly, as Jubilee tries to twist out of his grasp. "Don't worry, babe, I'll take ya nice an' slow, an' make sure ya enjoy it."

I'm not sure if my struggles are havin' an affect, or if my captors are just stunned at Bonebreaker's blatent intent to rape, but the pressure on my back an' arms eases just a tad an' I am quick to take full advantage o' this. Pushin' backwards, I raise my elbow an' slam it into DaCosta's face, hearin' a satisfying crack as his nose breaks. The guard reels back with a cry, blood gushin' over his lips an' chin and, for just a split second, I am reminded o' my earlier vow …..

_Their blood will join mine ….._

Growling, I wrench myself free o' Kelly's grasp an' lunge forwards, intendin' to take Bonebreaker down no matter what the cost, but my foot tangles in the sheet strewn across the floor an' I stumble, tuckin' into a roll to save myself just before I hit the tiles. A glint o' something white protruding from beneath the pillow attracts my attention as I regain my balance – _the sharpened turkey bone!_ Snatchin' it up, I use my forward momentum to carry me onwards, surgin' to my feet immediately behind Bonebreaker, who is so intent on tryin' to subdue Jubilee that he hasn't even begun to realise my intentions. Yankin' him around an' away from the kid, I shove the bone as far as it will go into the would-be rapist's eye …..

The man's agonised scream seems to reverberate around our tiny cell as he drops to the floor, already jerkin' in grotesque death throes. Frost an' Kelly are frozen in place, stunned by what I've done, an' before either of 'em can react I leap for Kelly, takin' him down with a pile-driver punch to the chin, dislocating his jaw.

A shout from Jubilee has me spinnin' around to see DaCosta levelling his rifle at me, his bloody face distorted by a cruel grimace. I start to move, but the kid is closer than I am, an' she finishes the job I started with a swift an' hefty kick to the guard's balls. I wince in sympathy as he rolls in agony on the floor, hands clamped to the mangled organs between his legs.

Say what you will about the firecracker, but she's one dirty fighter. _My kinda gal …._

An' then there was one. I turn to my former handler, body tensed an' ready to spring.

"You're either with us or against us," I growl, softly. "What's it to be, bub?"

Frost glances at Bonebreaker's body, still jerkin' spasmodically with the turkey bone protruding obscenely from his eye. He gulps audibly, looks to Jubilee, then back to me ….. an' then slowly an' calmly he stoops to pick up Kelly's discarded rifle.

"Let's do this," he declares, flatly.

I pull my lips back in a feral grin. "Good. Then get these bloody cuffs offa me."

Frost produces the remote an' the cuffs release, falling away to clatter on the floor. As soon as my hands are free, I snatch the visor off my head, pullin' the jack outta the back o' my neck with a sharp yank. The claws o' my right hand cleave the visor into several pieces, which I kick disdainfully across the floor.

It feels good to have the use o' my blades again an' I leave 'em out as I reach down with my free hand to pick up DaCosta's rifle. I hand it to Jubilee. "Here, take this. Your fireworks'll start coming back as soon as we leave the cell, but I want you armed until they do."

"Why aren't the alarms going off?" she asks anxiously, as I stalk to the cell door. She scampers after me, scooping up my leather jacket on the way. "The last time you escaped, there were alarms blaring out all over. Why are they silent? Wolvie?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Maybe the guard stepped out for a piss, or something?" Whatever the reason, it's their problem an' one I intend to take full advantage of.

Out in the hallway, I surprise Frost by heading – not for the elevator – but for Summers' cell. He jogs after me, holding the rifle awkwardly in both hands. "Wait!"

I don't, but I realise the reason he tried to stop me the moment I reach the cell door. It's wide open an' the cell is empty.

I turn on Frost.

"Where is he?" I demand.

"He's not here."

"Obviously."

"They've taken him for … for conditioning."

_Why am I not liking the sound o' that?_ "Do you know where he is?"

Frost nods at me, silently.

"Then take me to him. We're not leavin' without him"

"But ….."

"Look, I ain't arguing about this, bub. I'm not leavin' anyone behind in this hellhole, so don't even think about suggesting it. It's either alla us or none. Got it?"

Frost nods once more an' I snort decisively an' head for the stairwell at the end o' the hall, checkin' the cells to left an' right as I go. They're all empty an' Frost hesitantly informs me that only myself, the kid an' the Summers boy were kept on this level. Apparently, it's something to do with us being top security captives.

_Ain't that a crock o' shit?_

The alarms stay strangely silent as we ascend the stairs an' I begin to experience a strong feeling o' reverse déjà vu. What if I'm makin' all the same mistakes as before? What if – by insisting on freein' everyone – I'm condemning Jubilee an' Frost to death? My own stubborn sense o' pride caused one shitload o' trouble the last time I tried to bust outta here and, for one spilt second, I find myself tryin' to think o' one good reason why we shouldn't just bolt for the exit an' to hell with the consequences. But I know, even before the thought has finished flittin' across my mind, that I can't save myself an' leave people – fellow mutants – to be experimented on. The bastards in charge here have no sense o' right or wrong. They call _me_ an animal, but what kind of animal will medically rape a sixteen year old girl? Or keep young women as breeders to produce their own idea of the perfect soldier?

No, I ain't gonna head for an exit until I've saved as many o' the captives as I can, an' if that decision proves to be my downfall, then so be it. My conscience won't allow me to do any less – as I said to Frost, we either all get out now or none of us do. If this escape is destined to fail, then I ain't gonna let 'em drag me back to that fuckin' cell anyway. I don't know how, but I'd rather die first. If it comes to that, I'll take down all those with me an' then get Frost to fry me with the pulse rifle. That oughta do it.

I've worked myself up into a fair approximation of a black mood by the time we reach the floor that houses the females. Frost opens his mouth to speak as I turn off the stairwell, but one look as my face prompts him to close it again quickly an' he falls into step behind me as I make for the cells at a swift jog. Jubilee is between us, heftin' the unfamiliar rifle like a pro. She looks scared, but determined, an' I give her a nod as I catch her eye. Her return grin is shaky, but genuine.

The lab at the end o' the hallway is deserted once more an' I wonder briefly if it's the one they dragged the kid to when the bastards took her. There is no flash o' recognition in her eyes as we cross to the door at the other side, but she pales as we pass a tray o' surgical instruments an' I move nearer, supportin' her with my silent presence.

Frost opens the door an' we step through into the hallway beyond, just as the lights flash erratically an' then go out. Jubilee gasps into the absolute blackness that surrounds us an' I put out a hand to stop her from walkin' into me. Thanks to my enhanced senses, I have better than normal vision in the dark, but they haven't fully returned to me yet an' the sudden blackness brings me up short. I screw my eyes shut in a desperate attempt to banish the after-image o' the bright corridor an' restore my night vision.

We are in blackness for no more than fifteen seconds before the emergency lighting kicks in, yet it feels like an eternity. It begins at the other end o' the hallway, advancin' steadily towards us like an uncoiling snake until we are bathed in a subdued orange glow. Jubilee is the first to break the stunned silence.

"What the hell was that?"

I don't have an answer an' I look to Frost, who shrugs helplessly. There's no time for further speculation. If the bastards have trouble with their power supply, that's their look-out, not mine. Maybe this is the reason why the alarms haven't gone off? Whatever the cause, we gotta move fast – standin' around like this is just askin' for trouble.

"Let's move." I stalk to the nearest cell an' ram a claw through the lockin' mechanism. The door swings open easily at my touch an' I step inside the cell to be greeted by the sight of a small an' naked female, desperately tryin' to hide herself in a room which offers no concealment whatsoever.

"Hey, easy. Easy." I step closer, spreading my arms to show that I pose no threat to her but this, if anything, only seems to distress her further an' I turn as I hear a disgusted snort behind me.

"You're frightening her!" Jubilee shoves past me, thrustin' her rifle at Frost an' my jacket at me. "Put some clothes on, ya loon! What do you think this looks like to her?"

_Christ! I hadn't thought o' that … _I shrug into my jacket quickly as me an' Frost retreat to the door. Jubilee crouches at the female's side, talkin' to her in soft an' gentle tones, an' I am somewhat surprised when she suddenly reaches out an' places her hand in the kid's. There is a moment o' low conversation an' then Jubilee leads the female to the door.

She's small, barely more than fourteen years old, an' I stifle the growl that wells up in my throat.

"This is Amanda," Jubilee tells us, thickly. "And she's coming with us."

Frost quickly strips off his army jacket, handin' it to Jubilee so as not to alarm the girl. While the kid is helpin' her into it, with repeated assurances that everything is gonna be okay, I step out into the hallway, only to pull up short as a distant rumble shakes the floor beneath my feet. Several o' the now redundant overhead lights shatter, raining deadly shards onto the tiles below.

"That was an explosion!" Jubilee appears beside me, her arm around the girl's shoulders, protectively. "I've caused enough of them in my time to know what one sounds like." She peers up at the ceiling, as if she can see through it to the cause o' the disturbance. "Why do I get the feeling that something is definitely _not _OK at the Corral?"

As if to underscore her words, the alarms belatedly blare out around us, makin' the girl jump an' cry out in shock.

"What the hell …..? Have the spotted us?" Jubilee makes a grab for her rifle an' then gives a start, clickin' her fingers in sudden understanding. "No, wait! They're under attack! That's gotta be it!" She grins at me, her blue eyes shining with undisguised hope. "Wolvie! The X-Men are here!"

_Sonofabitch …!_ Without another word, I turn an' head for the next cell, repeatin' the procedure with the lock an' standin' back so that Jubilee can enter. The female inside has heard the disturbance an' is already waitin' at the door. It takes only seconds to add her to the group.

We work steadily along the hallway, liberating the females as we go. By the time we reach Tirzah's door, we have six captives with us. Two have refused to join us, an' each refusal broke my heart but I can't knock 'em unconscious an' force 'em to come along. They probably figure it's better the devil they know than the one they don't, but I can't help feelin' as though I'm condemning them to a slow death as we leave 'em cowerin' in their cells.

There have been two more explosions, each soundin' nearer than the last. The last one blew out several more lights an' I am painfully conscious o' the females' bare feet as I scramble the lock on Tirzah's door. Freed from her cell, she moves immediately into my arms, rubbin' her body sensually against mine, an' I am reminded instantly o' the differences between us. We are both feral, but our basic natures couldn't be further removed. With the canines, a greeting – even among allies – is often a form of establishing ones superiority. There's a lot o' aggressive posturing, especially if more than one Alpha is involved. With the felines, everything is softer, more graceful and, as Tirzah has already accepted me as her Alpha, she is happy to share scents.

With Frost, however, she bares her sharp little teeth an' hisses.

"Behave," I tell her sharply, tryin' to ignore Jubilee's scandalised expression. "He's a friend."

I remove my jacket an' hand it to her. She takes it reverently, as though I've just given her the key to eternal life itself, an' she presses the sleeve to her cheek, purrin' softly as she inhales its scent. When she slips her arms inside, the jacket falls to her knees, almost swampin' her slight frame, but her eyes shine with pride.

The occupants o' the next three cells are more than willin' to join us. Two are roughly the same age as Amanda, the third much older, almost to the end of her child bearing years, an' I wonder briefly what happens to the females who no longer serve a useful purpose. Knowin' Roberts as I do, I suspect the worst. The older female was probably livin' on borrowed time.

Another explosion rocks the base as the final cell is liberated an' the females cling together, wailing in terror. Except for Tirzah. She stands beside me with an air of trusting determination an' when I glance towards the elevator, she nods.

With chaos reigning above, surely the last thing they'd expect is an attack from below?

Tirzah an' I take the point, positioning Jubilee an' the females between us with Frost as a rear guard. But we have barely begun to move before the doors to our destination slide open an' our escape route is blocked by the three heavily armed guards who spew out into the hallway.

They spot us instantly, raising their weapons. "It's too late!" one of 'em yells. "They're already down here!"

There's no time to think, only to act, an' I willingly allow the beast to surge to the fore as I leap for the larger o' the three men, my claws springin' from my hands as my weight bears him down to the ground. He only has time for a single frantic yell before it is cut off by a wet an' bloody gargle – the sound o' my own laboured breathin' is loud in my ears as I remove my claws from his heart.

The beast roars within me – delighted with the kill – an' I am only remotely aware that Catseye has launched herself at the second guard. Even as she tears out his throat with her own teeth, I hear a whoop of triumph and, seconds later, the final guard hits the floor, laid out cold by Jubilee's fireworks.

When he comes to, I wonder if he'll realise how lucky he was this day?

Growling, I push away from my kill an' force myself to stand, takin' a moment to calm the rage that is buildin' inside – a rage that wants to lash out an' rend an' destroy. Why were these guards here? Why did they come to this level when the battle is ragin' above?

The others approach slowly, Jubilee lookin' as triumphant as her name suggests an' devoid of her rifle now that her powers have returned. The females gather around the fallen guards, seemingly unperturbed by the gory remains. Several kick the bodies to make sure they're truly dead – one even spits in a guard's bloody face. I'm guessin' these three have paid visits to this particular floor more'n once.

As Jubilee an' Tirzah begin to usher them towards the now empty elevator, Frost steps to my side an' nods towards the men on the floor. "They came here to kill the females," he tells me softly, unwittingly answering my unspoken question. "To stop them from falling into enemy hands."

His face reflects his pain at the treachery he has just revealed an' he immediately moves away to join the others, leavin' me to snarl viciously towards the bodies at my feet. _Bastards got what they deserved. Only hope I can oblige the rest of 'em in a similar fashion._

The elevator feels crowded with us all inside an' shakes ominously as we ascend, courtesy o' the battle ragin' above. The rescued females huddle together at the back for comfort, fearful of what we are headin' into, but I can only feel a rising sense o' anticipation. Electricity seems to be coursin' through my veins, settin' my very soul alight, an' I spring my claws a couple o' times, eager to let them taste blood once more. Expectation o' the fight awaitin' us brings a feral snarl to my lips an' I wonder ….. is Rogue here? Am I about to be reunited with my mate?

The elevator suddenly shudders to a halt, shakin' violently as debris clatters down onto it from above. Whatever my team are doing up there, they've given us no choice but to go the rest o' the way on foot.

The doors succumb easily to my claws, rippin' back to reveal that we've stopped just shy o' the next floor. Thankfully, there's a fair-sized gap to crawl through an' I haul myself up first, reachin' down for Jubilee from my prone position on the floor. Tirzah scrambles out beside me with no aid from anyone an' covers the hallway behind us, her talons raised an' her teeth bared.

I pity anyone who tries to sneak up on us unawares.

Frost is the last to leave, boostin' each o' the females up to my outstretched hand before he makes his own bid for freedom. His feet have barely cleared the gap when the elevator's cables snap, sendin' it rocketing towards an abrupt end far below us. The guard gulps audibly as he peers down the darkened and eerily empty lift shaft.

"That was close," he declares, flatly.

I grunt in agreement an' then turn to survey the hallway that stretches before us. There's nothin' remarkable about it – just the same featureless walls lit by the orange glow o' the emergency lights – yet there's a feelin' about it that I can't quite put my finger on. My skin is tinglin' an' the hairs on my arms are standin' up.

_It feels like there's a storm comin' ….._

Once again, I take the point, leadin' the way down to the stairwell at the other end o' the hallway. The battle ragin' above us has gone strangely silent. Is it all over? I seriously hope not. The beast is howlin' for payback.

An ominous creak an' the snap o' tortured metal is the only warnin' we get before the ceiling begins to cave in some paces ahead o' us. One o' the females screams shrilly as the lights shatter an' I slide to a halt on the lethal shards, swipin' my claws at a section o' fallin' sheet metal an' reducin' it to several harmless pieces before it can decapitate someone.

"Move it!" I yell. "Get to the stairwell! Go! _Go!"_

They move, several o' the females leavin' bloody footprints on the floor, but heedless o' the pain in their haste to avoid being buried alive. I cover their retreat, deflectin' pieces o' fallin' metal an' strips o' lightin' with my claws an' even my own body, oblivious to the pain an' the bloody wounds which begin to mar my flesh. Only when Frost has ushered the last o' the females past me do I even think o' savin' my own skin. With the sound o' rendin' metal echoing in my ears, I hurl myself down the hallway, confident in my ability to avoid any obstacle, only to cry out in frustration an' pain as a support girder snaps an' tumbles towards me. I twist around it on one foot, changin' direction in mid-stride and, for one brief moment, it looks as though I can evade its downward plunge. But then the fuckin' thing tilts as one end hits the floor at an angle an' both it an' a sizable chunk o' the ceiling crashes down onto my back.

As the dust an' noise settles, Tirzah an' Jubilee come haring back along the hallway.

"Wolvie!" Jubilee's face is white with shock. "Oh my god, Wolvie, are you okay?"

"Jubilee, get back!" I'm pinned on my stomach an' I wave my one free hand to ward the girls off. "More o' the ceiling's about to come down! Get the hell outta here!"

"What, and leave you pinned under there?" The kid gives me a look that could fry bacon an' crouches down beside the girder pinning me to the floor. "Did something just hit you on the head, because you're definitely not thinking straight?"

"Jubilee ….."

"Are you hurt? Can you free yourself, _koeri?"_ Tirzah eases in beside the kid, my jacket brushin' the floor as she crouches.

"No, I ….." _Wait a minute, what did she just call me? _Whatever it was, it'll have to wait. "I'm not hurt, but I can't move. I'm pinned down."

"There's no chance of lifting the thing, not with it jammed against the wall like that." Jubilee studies the girder with a critical eye, ignoring my repeated attempts to get her to back off. I swear the kid has selective hearing. Must be a secondary mutation.

"Is everything okay?" Frost is hovering uncertainly further along the hallway an' I curse under my breath as he begins to edge closer. _What the hell is this – get yourself buried week? _The last thing I need is him bringing all the edgy females back down here. But before he can get too near, Jubilee stands an' motions him back.

"He's stuck! But don't panic, I think I can blast him out."

_Blast me out …..? Christ, no!_ "Wait a minute, kid, I don't think that's such a good idea. The ceiling ….."

"Will hold, I promise you. I only need to sever this longer section anyway, and we should be able to lift the rest."

She backs off, pullin' Tirzah with her, an' raises her hands. When her tongue pokes between her lips with the intensity of her concentration, I actually find myself squeezing my eyes shut.

It's not that I'm scared, y'understand. It's just … well, to be brutally honest, Jubilee's fireworks have been known to go astray a time or two an' I'm rather attached to all my body parts – I'd hate to see 'em go.

When I hear an echoing clang from further down the hallway, I actually think she's brought the ceiling down on us all despite her promise, but I open my eyes just in time to see the stairwell door hurtle down the hallway, barely missing Frost an' the females. It crashes to the floor a few feet away an' slides towards me, forcin' Tirzah an' Jubilee to jump out o' the way or risk being severely injured.

It grates to a halt just inches from my outstretched hand.

"What the hell …?" Frost is stunned, no doubt staggered by his second brush with death of the day. He starts towards me, only to flail around him for balance as a blur o' green pushes past, swirling him up in its wake an' slammin' him into the wall. When the dust settles, the blur resolves itself into a man dressed in a form fitting green body suit. His hands are wrapped around Frost's throat as he holds the guard two feet above the floor.

"Make peace with your creator, human," the newcomer snarls. "You have tortured your last mutant today."

"No, wait!" Jubilee flings a handful of fireworks, but the newcomer simply deflects them with a wave of his hand, sending them spinnin' back towards her. The resultin' explosion stuns both the kid an' Tirzah, droppin' them to the floor where they groan an' shake their heads in confusion. With Frost rapidly turnin' blue, I struggle to free myself from the confining weight o' the girder above me, gruntin' at the pain as the sharp metal scores into my back.

"Pietro! Stand down at once!"

The command carries its owner's weight of authority an' the guard is instantly released, coughing an' spluttering as he struggles to catch his breath. As his assailant turns towards the source of the command, a new figure strides into the hallway, holdin' his head high an' ignoring everyone around him as he makes his way straight towards me. He comes to a halt atop the very door he blew from its hinges only moments before an' the metal lacing my bones seems to shift uneasily as he looks down at me as though I am a bug to be squashed underfoot.

_Oh my god …._

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Wolverine. I thought I sensed your unique presence about the place." The newcomer raises a hand an' the girder lifts easily from my back, settlin' down gently further along the hallway.

As I struggle to haul myself to my feet an' get the hell outta Dodge, Magneto puts out his hand to assist me.

"Come with me, if you want to live ….."

**NEXT: **Homecoming!

**Author's Note:** I don't usually chat to you down here, but I just had to take the opportunity to thank Laudine once more for the amazing cliffhanger! To be honest, I had planned to use Magneto later on in the story, but Laudine suggested that he and the Brotherhood would be just itching to get their hands on the poor unfortunates being held by the Weapon X project in order to swell the numbers of their own army and …. Well, one thing led to another and before you could say Adamantium Skeleton, the idea had taken off and I just knew she was right! So thanks, Laudine, for the terrific suggestion and I only hope I do your idea justice! More of Magneto and his band of troublemakers in the next chapter!


	31. Unholy Alliance

Hello, everyone! First of all, I'd like to say a big 'thank you' to all my readers for sticking with me while my life is going up and down like a rollercoaster! I really do appreciate your help and support! Things are slowly getting back on track - no pun intended! - so hopefully the spaces between my chapters being uploaded will get shorter and shorter!

Many, many thanks to my loyal reviewers - **moviemom44 **- (yes, Tirzah is going to stick around for a while and yes, she will make a nuisance of herself!) - **xxKittyEmoxx, I-am-the-Wolf, Ryromaniac, Mrstrentreznor, Laudine, alexmonalisa,** **notashamedtobe **- (have you shortened your name recently?) and **nileena. **Give yourselves a bow!

And now, onward - there's a chopper to catch!

**ooXoo**

**31****. Unholy Alliance**

"Fuck off, Lensherr. We don't need your help."

I knock Magneto's hand away an' stand unaided, bolstering my male pride by brushin' ceiling dust off my denims. Jubilee an' Tirzah immediately move into flankin' positions around me. Tirzah is clueless as to Lensherr's identity, but Jubilee has heard all the tales an' glares at the older mutant with her hands held ready. Frost, sensing something amiss, wisely keeps the rescued females back.

If a fight breaks out an' things turn nasty, the stairwell behind him is his only source of retreat.

Magneto gathers his cape over his arm, keepin' it out o' the dust that coats the floor as he advances a step. "You'll never get out of this facility without my assistance, Wolverine. Put aside your male bravado for once and admit you need me."

I'd sooner admit that I needed a hole in the head, but the kid in green beats me to the hop. He turns angrily on the older mutant, gesturing wildly.

"What is the meaning of this, father?" Father? _Christ …..! _"You can't be proposing to take him with us. He's the Wolverine. Our enemy."

"I am quite aware of his identity, Pietro, as I am equally aware of his alliance with our esteemed opposition. I am in no need of your advice, nor your unwanted reminders. Or do you seek to belittle me in the eyes of our enemy?"

"No, father! Of course not ….."

"Then kindly refrain from questioning my motives. When I want your opinion, I will ask for it." Magneto turns back to me as the boy flushes a deep shade of scarlet. "Please forgive my son, Wolverine. On occasion, Quicksilver's emotions are as fleet as his name suggests."

So he's a speedster, huh? Figures he'd take after his old man in the genes department. Probably something of a megalomaniac too, unless I'm way off the mark.

Magneto is waitin' for me to make a move an' I decide to give him one, but probably not the one he's anticipating or expecting.

I make to step around him …..

"No sale, Lensherr, I ain't buying. We go our separate ways from here on out."

Lensherr's hand on my shoulder stops me. It's subtle, but I swear I can feel his power flowin' into me, preventin' me from movin' forward.

"It seems that I did not make myself perfectly clear. Do forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you have anything to fear from the _occupants_ of this base."

Okay, I get the picture. I've been around the block a few times an' I know a threat when I hear one.

Summoning all my strength, I lean into his hand, actually forcin' him to push back to keep me outta his face. "You implying that it's _you_ we need to fear, Lensherr? 'Cause where I come from, them's fightin' words."

Magneto considers this a moment an' then slowly shakes his head, as if disappointed by my reaction.

"I will oblige you if I must, Wolverine, but do you really mean to fight me here? In the presence of your females?"

He nods towards Tirzah an' Jubilee but, standin' with my back to 'em, my eyes unerringly settle on Frost an' the women he is still guarding. An' I know instantly that Lensherr is right, though it kills me to admit it. The females may be X-Gene positive for all I know, but I have no right to involve them in my own petty squabbles. They've been through enough an' they deserve more than seeing the men who are supposed to be protecting them brawlin' in the dust like testosterone-fueled schoolboys. An' even if Frost manages to get them away unscathed, I'm bettin' that Magneto's other cronies are lurkin' in the base somewhere, jus' waitin' to snap 'em up. Frost won't stand a chance …..

No. If we're gonna get outta this hellhole alive we gotta do it together …. an' with Magneto's aid, though I'll bite my own tongue off before I'll admit it aloud.

I knock Magneto's hand away from my shoulder an' lean in, gettin' up close an' personal. Something tells me that he's allowin' this only to satisfy my Alpha male pride an' realisation o' this brings a snarl to my lips as I lay down my terms.

"Fine. We'll play it your way. For now. But you double-cross us, Lensherr, an' I swear I'll shove my fist so far up your ass you'll be choking on my knuckles."

Lensherr coughs discreetly at this delightful image an' actually takes a step back. "There will be no need for hostility, Wolverine, I can assure you. My only wish is to liberate the poor souls who have been incarcerated here. I trust this is your goal also?"

"Damn straight."

"Good. Then I also assume that you have already freed the mutants who were being kept on the lower levels?"

I nod an' Magneto studies me for a moment before nodding decisively. "Then our work here is done. It is time to leave. Come."

An' with that, he turns smartly on his heel an' begins to retrace his steps down the hallway towards Frost an' the females.

"Wait." I stalk after him with a manly stride, refusin' to jog like a girl to catch up. My honour guard falls into step beside me, flashin' the speedster a warnin' glance as they leave him standin' under the hole in the ceiling. "Wait up, Lensherr. There's someone else being held here an' we haven't found him yet."

"The Summers boy?" Lensherr tosses me a quick glance over his shoulder. "We already have him. He and the other captives are with the rest of my team. Now that we have your females our work here is done."

An' with those words our unholy alliance is sealed. The mutants being incarcerated here are all free an' all that remains is to get the hell outta Dodge an' see to it that this hellhole never finds the funds to become operational again. I'll make sure o' that, as long as I live.

An' I'm gonna live a very long time.

We gather up Frost an' the females further down the hallway, somehow managing to fall into two distinct groups without actually giving Lensherr the impression that we're keepin' our distance. I can't bring myself to trust him. Sure, he's worked with us a time or two, but always for his own gain an' I can't help but feel he's not raiding the joint outta the goodness of his heart.

He's got a hidden agenda, I'm sure of it.

The exit at the end o' the hallway opens up to the stairwell – minus the door which Magneto blew off earlier to make his fancy entrance. As we file through, Quicksilver speeds past us an' up the stairs, creating one helluva draft an' nearly draggin' the smaller females in his wake. _Bloody show off….._

At the bottom o' the stairs, Lensherr raises his hands an' simply levitates straight up the shaft between them, leavin' the rest of us lesser mortals to hoof it on foot. We pass a couple o' bodies on the way up. Both of 'em look as though they were strangled by their own rifles. Magneto's handywork.

Four floors later, we leave the stairs an' emerge into a large open room, probably the base's canteen if the smell o' veggies an' overcooked beef is anything to go by. It looks as though a major battle has been fought here – bullet holes an' pulse burns mar the walls, tables an' chairs have been overturned an' the floor here an' there is stained with dark patches o' blood. There's no sign of any bodies, but the stink o' death is all around. It looks as though the dead have been removed, but why an' by which side are two answers that evade me.

There's a small group waitin' for us near the far doors an' Magneto leads us over, with me doing my level best to keep my claws from bustin' outta my hands. After so long being confined, they're aching to shed blood, an' the scents I've already caught from the group ahead have pushed all the right buttons. Takin' a couple o' calming breaths, I force my hands to relax at my sides. As much as I hate to admit it, this whole situation is startin' to look like an open powder keg – one spark an' it'll go up in our faces.

Mystique is the first to acknowledge our presence, movin' to the front o' the group an' looking us over, one by one. Her eyes come to rest on me last of all, although I know she was aware o' me right from the moment we entered the room.

"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting _you_ here, Wolverine. How the mighty have fallen."

I give the usual eloquent reply I reserve for dealin' with those who jerk my chain. "Fuck you, Mystique."

"Anytime, anywhere, Wolverine," she purrs, an' her eyes give me a lazy once over. _Give me a break ….._

Jubilee utters a scandalised snort an' I use the distraction to check out the rest o' the group. To the left is Toad, squattin' on his haunches an' gnawing on something that may, or may not be, the remains of a lamb shank. Lensherr is already exchangin' information with a tall female dressed from head to toe in blood red leather. I've not seen her before, but something about her scent smells familiar, akin to the speedster's but just off slightly. They gotta be related. If the closeness o' their scents means what I think it does …..

_Oh god, I so do not wanna go there …_

Clamping a lid tightly on that particular revelation, I turn slightly to study the rest o' the group, all male. Each an' every one of 'em, six in all, have the same haunted look in their eye, an' identical expressions o' hope on their faces. So these are Roberts' other guinea pigs. I recognise Summers standin' at the back and, as our eyes meet, he raises a shaky hand in greeting. I nod back, right before a soft mewling cry diverts my attention an' prompts an excited flurry to run through the females in Frost's care.

"By the way, we found _these."_ Mystique gestures sharply an' two o' the males step forward, each holdin' a small blanket-bound bundle. Simultaneously, two o' Frost's charges break from the group, flinging themselves at the captives with longing cries an' reachin' for the little bundles with tremblin' hands. _What the hell gives …?_

As a plaintive cry sounds once more, understanding hits with the force of a ten ton truck an' I curse myself for being so stupid. _O' course! _Babies. _Their _babies – torn from their arms at the moment o' birth to be raised as weapons in Roberts' private army.

_Bastard …_

I hope Magneto found him an' made him suffer. For a long, long time. Death is too good for the likes o' him.

Jubilee is watchin' the females coo over their babies with sad eyes an' I sidle close an' nudge her with my shoulder. She turns an' gives me a smile. It's a tad watery, but a smile nonetheless.

"Our work here is done." Lensherr strides forward, placing himself at the center o' attention once more. "It is time to take our leave."

"The hell it is, bub," I counter, hackles instantly rising. "We ain't leavin' till this place is nothin' but a dustbowl."

"Our work here is done, Wolverine. Do not force me to stress the point." Magneto narrows his eyes at me an' Mystique sidles over to stand at his side, her face serene but strangely mocking. As much as I wanna wipe that smirk off the blue bitch's face, I know Lensherr is right. We have wounded ….. young …. getting them to safety is our priority.

I grudgingly nod my head. "Alright," I concede.

The woman in red takes the point, leading us through a set o'double doors an' along the hallway beyond. At the end, we go up another flight of stairs, along another hallway an' up again – shorter this time. The signs of a hard fought battle line our route, starkly evident in the busted walls an' collapsed ceilings that occasionally block our path. But there's no evidence o' anymore guards, either alive or otherwise an' for that I am strangely grateful. Lensherr may be a power-hungry bastard but he's done something good here for once, although whether he did it for all the right reasons remains to be seen.

We finally emerge into what appears to be some kinda reception area, complete with security bays an' metal detectors, like the ones at an airport. I avoid those like the plague an' head over to investigate the reception desk, behind which an overturned chair gives mute testament to the surprise attack by Magneto's forces. It's like a scene straight outta that film 'Die Hard' that the older kids at the mansion seem to enjoy so much, an' I'm half expectin' to see a vest-clad Bruce Willis come bustin' through the doors at any moment in an effort to put a stop to the 'bad guys'. It's strange to think that something as mundane as a reception area could be in a place like this, but then the criminally insane are called as such for a reason.

An automatic door to the side o' the reception desk leads into … Christ Almighty, agod-damn study, complete with bookcase to hide the door, all James Bond. As Jubilee an' Tirzah gaze around them with eyes goggling, Lensherr leads us down a short hallway, past a chintzy sitting room an' – _Christ _- a kitchen, an' out the front door where we find ourselves standin' on the front porch of a colonial farm house.

We fan out, tryin' to take in everything at once an' unconsciously movin' into our two separate groups once more. Jubilee an' Tirzah follow me as I take the three steps down off the porch, breathin' in the sharp scent o' pine an' clear open spaces as I go. Turnin' as the girls draw close, I see Tirzah's nostrils flare as she does the same. There's a wild look in her eye an' her whole body stiffens as she takes in the many strange scents an' sounds coming to her in the pre-dawn haze. Some o' Frost's females look similarly spooked an' I'm guessing some of 'em – including my Tirzah, if I'm reading the signs right – haven't been outta their cells in a very long time. If at all. I reach out an' take Tirzah's hand in comfort an' she folds into me like a fallen house o' cards, clutchin' at my arms with fingers gone suddenly cold.

"It'll be okay," I whisper encouragingly into her ear and, to back up my words, I allow a gentle rumble to vibrate around my chest. Her death grip on my arms relaxes slightly.

"How positively charming." Mystique flashes me a sneer and stalks past, out towards two helicopters parked adjacent to the house, their rotors just catching the first rays from the rising sun. I pull my lips back in a grimace that would send saner men running for the hills, but nevertheless lead my small but determined group after her as Lensherr pulls back one o' the chopper's sliding doors an' gestures my females inside.

Alarm bells go off in my head.

"The hell is this, bub?" I demand, puttin' out a hand to hold Frost an' the females back.

"Our transport, of course. Or did you think we were going to walk out of here?" This from Mystique, who places her hands on her hips an' smiles at me as if I were an idiot in the midst o' intellectuals.

Toad laughs an' I flash him a glare before turning on Magneto. "Lensherr ….." I growl, warningly.

"Oh come now, Wolverine, surely you suspected this?" The very air around the white-haired mutant seems to crackle as he draws himself up to his full height. "The Brotherhood is small in number. I need these mutants to swell our ranks and fight for our cause."

"They've been brutalised enough. They need to go home – to family and loved ones." Jubilee steps forward, her hands balled into determined fists an' I can smell the tell-tale signs o' fireworks about to be unleashed. I growl to back up her words, but cautiously ease sideways to cover her. If there's gonna be bloodshed, Magneto will have to go through _me _first.

But the older mutant merely shakes his head, actually appearing saddened. "I doubt if these females have homes to _go_ to," he states, flatly. "By the looks of them, I would surmise that the majority were born here, at the base. As for the males ….." an' here he smiles warmly, an action totally at odds with the coldness I know lies at his heart. "I will give them a choice, Wolverine. If they wish to do so, I will allow them to return home. Or to join your merry little band, if that is their desire. If they wish otherwise, however, they can join _my _cause."

As he speaks, Toad jumps the gun an' pushes at Tirzah, urging her towards the helicopter. My little wildcat slashes at his hand with her sharp talons, drawing blood an' making him jerk back with a curse. "You will not touch me! I will not get on that contraption unless it is with my _koeri."_

"I don't know what she said, but if she means she's staying with Wolverine then count me in." Frost plants his feet an' glares at the mutants gathered in front o' the helicopters. "I've heard all about you, Magneto, and somehow I think I would be signing my own death warrant if I were to ally myself with you."

Lensherr sighs softly, as if saddened by this accusation, but doesn't repute the claim. He studies us silently for a moment before the speedster pushes forward, placing his hand on his father's arm, reverently.

"Father, we have to go. The survivors could be marshalling reinforcements as we speak. It is folly to remain here any longer."

"Yeah, leave 'em." Toad is sucking his damaged hand, but still manages to point an accusing finger at my Tirzah. "She_ hurt_ me!"

"That was your fault, as I recall. I seem to remember giving Wolverine's people a choice, which you saw fit to ignore." Magneto is the unexpected voice of reason as he chastises his underling, but his reasoning is lost on Jubilee. She plants her fists on her hips and all but dares him with her eyes to retaliate.

"You can't leave us here!" she declares, hotly. "Take us home!" The demand is made with all the surety of a teenager used to getting her own way. "Or give us the use of the damn helicopter, I don't care, but make your god-damn mind up quickly. We're sitting ducks out here. Pardon my French," she adds, with a guilty look in my direction.

I grin back, her reputation going up a notch on my internal bad-ass scale an' even Magneto looks suitably impressed, although he is quick to point out the flaw in her logic.

"A helicopter is out of the question, young lady, as I doubt any of your rag-tag little group could fly it." He brushes off her protests with an imperious wave of the hand as I glance sideways at Frost to confirm this assumption. He shakes his head, sadly an' I am forced to admit Magneto may be right, although if Xavier's theories are to be believed, then it's highly likely that I've served in the military at some point in my chequered past an' may have learned to fly some sorta 'plane or chopper. However, tryin' to get a bird off the ground with a shitload o' angry army types out for your blood is not the best o' times to find out that you're wrong.

"Gather your group, Wolverine," Lensherr suddenly announces, joltin' me outta my reverie. "I will fly you home myself."

"Father?" The speedster looks scandalised, an' even Mystique looks a little green around the gills. I'm feeling more'n a tad shocked myself, but I take some small satisfaction from the shapechanger's discomfort as my team look around at each other triumphantly.

"Toad, you will fly everyone back to base, including those of Wolverine's group who don't wish to accompany him. Mystique, you're with me."

If anything, the shapechanger looks even unhappier at this, but quickly moves to comply, hopping into the chopper to prep the engine as me an' Frost begin movin' among the liberated captives. In short order, we have separated into two distinct groups for the last time, mine considerably smaller. Only Alex Summers has moved to our side – all o' the females have elected to join Magneto. I can't say as I am pleased by this, but I can't blame 'em either. If you had been tortured an' abused by a bunch o' humans for most o' your life, which side would you choose?

I watch silently as the last o' the females clamber aboard Toad's chopper an' then herd my smaller group towards the second, steppin' back to allow my girls to go first. As I put my foot up into the doorway, a sudden wave o' dizziness washes over me an' I sway unsteadily, clutchin' at the side o' the door panel in an effort to stop myself from pitchin' over the side an' landin' on my ass out on the lawn. A strong grip latches onto my arm an' pulls me all the way inside an' when the interior o' the bird finally stops spinnin', I realise Frost is still holdin' me upright.

"You okay?" he asks, concern evident in his tone.

"Yeah." I scrub a hand across my face, feelin' suddenly tired. "I forgot how much I hate flyin'. Guess my head is gettin' its protest in early."

My former handler doesn't look convinced, but lets go o' my arm to allow me to park my ass on a seat between my two girls. Watchin' me carefully, Frost takes a seat opposite, beside the Summers kid, an' I feign nonchalance, lookin' about me for any sign of a seatbelt an' bitin' back a curse when I realise there isn't one. Magneto may be the master o' magnetism, or some such shit, but would it honestly kill him to provide some form o' safety device on his fuckin' helicopter?

Lensherr has gone forward to join Mystique an' I stiffen as the rotors engage, the steady chop slowly increasing. Beside me, Jubilee is practically bouncing in her seat in her excitement to be airborne, but all I can feel is the bile risin' in my throat.

With a gentle jolt, we lift off, an' it's at this point that I realise we've neglected to close the door in the side o' the chopper, but with the ground steadily dropping away beneath us, now is not the time to worry about the draft. As the chopper banks around, we are treated to a spectacular stomach-churning view o' the base an' surrounding land. I can see the barn in the distance which I exited from when taken on my mission, an' nearby a field full o' horses. There's a small exercise field, a track an' more horses in the distance.

_The base was hidden beneath a god-damn horse ranch, fer Chrissakes!_

Why is it that the bad guys always disguise their lairs as something benign? A dam – a horse ranch – what fuckin' next?

A small voice o' reason tries to remind me that our own jet is hidden beneath the basketball court, but I give it a swift kick in the balls an' send it packin'.

_Teach ya to try an' contradict _me_, bub …._

As the minutes pass an' we fail to plummet back to the earth in a spectacular fireball, I try to relax but all I can focus on is the churning o' my stomach an' the way my head is makin' the interior o' the chopper spin alarmingly around me. My fingers are grippin' the armrest so tightly I swear I can hear it creak, an' when we hit an airpocket an' drop a few feet I only just manage to stop my last meal from makin' a sudden an' spectacular reappearance.

"Wolvie? Are you okay? You've gone a really strange colour ….." Jubilee comes out of her rush long enough to realise something is wrong an' I groan as I feel her cool hand covering mine. Because I've now realised I'm suffering from something far worse than a simple case o' airsickness an' I haven't a clue what to tell her.

Frost, however, solves that particular problem for me.

"Oh, shit!" He drops to his knees in front o' me, peelin' back one o' my eyelids to check on the progress o' my dilation, no doubt. I shake him away with a growl. "Has it started?"

"Started? Has what started?" Excitement forgotten, Jubilee is all motherly concern, but she stifles a squeak as I dry heave into my lap. "Oh god! Wolvie?"

"The serum has worn off." Frost states the obvious into the ensuing panic an' rocks back on his heels as Jubilee grabs his shoulders an' shakes him vigorously.

"Do something! Give him the freaking antidote! _Now!"_

"I don't have it. It was supposed to be administered after his mission." Frost runs a hand through his hair, looking frantic. "Roberts times the missions so that the dose wears off before the pick up, thus forcing Wolverine to return to us." As Jubilee sits back with a gasp, he tries to take her hand. "I'd no idea we'd taken so long to escape the base. He's out of time …"

"But … you've got to do _something."_ Jubilee is understandably distraught an' I reach out to catch her hand.

"Don't, kid. Don't fret. I wouldn't allow him to inject me with the stuff even if he had it on him. If I gotta die, I'm gonna die as a free man, without any o' Roberts fuckin' poison being pumped inside me."

"Logan, no …"

Jubilee's note o' protest peters off as a shudder runs through my body, her eyes tracking the involuntary clenchin' o' muscles as they strive to fend off the inevitable. Swallowin' convulsively against the painfully familiar feelin' welling up in my throat, I release her hand an' stagger to my feet.

"Move it, kid. Unless you wanna become personally acquainted with my last meal."

She scoots back as I lurch past her an' head for the open door, where I stop myself from fallin' out by grabbin' at the safety handle at the side o' the yawning opening. Too ill to even contemplate the long drop that awaits me if I let go, I lean out an' throw up into the pristine morning air. It is only when I have completely emptied my stomach an' sunk down to my knees in a boneless heap that I realise I am no longer alone. Alex is holdin' onto the back o' my jeans to stop me from going into free-fall, an' Tirzah is beside me, her cool hand strokin' my forehead.

I lean into her touch, biting back a groan as another shudder ripples through my body. Tirzah guides me through it an' then nods her head towards the doorway.

"I hope no one was below, _koeri._ They are going to get rather a nasty surprise if so."

I snort a laugh, recognising her statement as an attempt at levity an' tryin' to play along, but pain is wracking my body an' all I wanna do is lie down an' sleep. I feel hot an' cold all at the same time an' my muscles are clenchin' so tightly I swear my metal-clad bones are gonna give under the strain. As Tirzah an' Alex gently lower me to the deck, I hear Jubilee poundin' on the partition that separates our compartment from the cockpit, screamin' that I'm gonna die an' to get a move on or so help her ….

Her words fade away as my numbed brain refuses to process the information being borne to it. The breeze blowin' in through the open doorway feels so good to my feverish skin, but I can take no comfort from this – the sickness is ravaging my body far faster this time around an' I'm helpless to stop it. It seems that even in defeat, Roberts has taken his revenge an' all I can do now is pray to that celestial god o' the ferals …

….. pray that I get to see my mate one last time before I die ….

**NEXT:**Welcome home – 'nuff said!


	32. There's No Place Like Home

Hey, everyone! So sorry for the HUGE gap between chapters, but my life has become a rollercoaster ride lately! Our store Manager has gone on extended sick-leave, with the result that the Assistant Manager and myself are now holding the fort! Add to this the previous problems that some of you know about, an unexpected visit from a Canadian relative and a throat infection and you may guess that my muse has been severely challenged lately! However, a recent holiday to the Highlands of Scotland proved most relaxing, and I was at last able to finish this chapter for your enjoyment! Hurrah!

Once again, I am deeply in awe of my dedicated reviewers - **moviemom44, Piggy kun, Crazy-InsanNe995, desy, Kai-2010, Ryromaniac, alexmonalisa, Laudine **and **nileena! **Your support keeps me going, guys!

Okay, you've heard enough from me, so let's get this show on the road! Onward ... !

**ooXoo  
**

**32. ****There's No Place Like Home**

It was the worst journey of Jubilee's life.

She felt as helpless as a newborn as Wolverine's condition worsened, at times seizing the feral with so much pain that he moaned and thrashed even while unconscious. She and Tirzah did their best to keep him comfortable, but their resources were limited and all they could do was whisper soothing words and pray to their deities to deliver him from evil. As the miles wore on and the shudders wracking his body increased, unspoken fears took flight in the confines of the stolen helicopter ….. fears that the feral would not complete the journey alive.

To his credit, Magneto pulled out all the stops, taking the fastest possible route and ignoring the demands that repeatedly blasted from the radio as to the chopper's identity and intentions. To Jubilee, it seemed a miracle that fighters weren't scrambled and their tiny aircraft immediately blown out of the sky as they repeatedly violated private airspace, but she wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth. If the powers-that-be were in the mood to grant favours, she only hoped they could spare one or two for the man she had come to regard as more than a just a team-mate.

"Hold on there, Wolvie," she whispered soothingly, as the chopper hit turbulence and rocked jerkily, shaking the tortured feral. His eyes fluttered open and her breath caught as he groped for her hand, giving it a weak squeeze even as the blackness pulled him under once more. A single fat tear rolled down her cheek to splash wetly on the metal flooring beneath her knees and she jumped as another hand covered hers and Wolverine's. She turned her head to look into Tirzah's piercing green eyes.

"Do not fret, my friend. Our _koeri_ is strong. He will survive."

"Why do you call him that?" asked Jubilee, her curiosity momentarily outweighing her fears. "What does it mean?"

Tirzah hesitated, biting at her lower lip with a shapely fang. She tilted her head, looking down at the feral, and tenderly stroked his cheek with her free hand. "My mother taught me of our ways before she ….. before she died," she finally whispered, her eyes filled with sadness. "Among my kind, _koeri_ is a term of respect towards ones Alpha. It signifies ownership … belonging."

"Your kind?" questioned Jubilee. "Mutants? Ferals?"

But Tirzah would say nothing more and Jubilee left the point alone, recognising the other's need for privacy. Whatever had happened to the young feral back at the Weapon X base, the memories were obviously still too raw and painful to speak of openly and Jubilee had no desire to make matters worse by prying. Time was a great healer – she knew this from experience – and she was willing to hold her silence until the young feral felt easy enough with their friendship to speak of the atrocities in her past.

In those few moments, Jubilee was surprised to feel a sense of connection with the other mutant despite their differences. Maybe she was finally beginning to grow up …..?

Some considerable time passed before Mystique called back to inform them that they were approaching Westchester, prompting Jubilee's fears to surface once more. What if the X-Men wouldn't allow them to land? What if they suspected a sneak attack and fired on their chopper? What if ….. ?

Frost seemed to sense her discomfort and leaned forward, patting her shoulder. "It'll be alright, Jubilee. They won't fire on an unarmed aircraft."

"We're not entirely unarmed." Alex nodded forward into the cockpit meaningfully and, for the briefest moment, his chest glowed. "If push comes to shove, we'll be able to defend ourselves until they realise who we are."

"Why doesn't he contact the school by radio and just _tell_ them who we are?" demanded Jubilee, her voice shaky.

Frost snorted. "Who knows? Bravado? Delusions of grandeur? Me, I suspect he simply likes to make a dramatic entrance."

"He's gonna get us all killed!" declared Jubilee, hotly.

"From what I've heard, the X-Men are not fools." Frost was the voice of reason. "I repeat, they will not fire upon an unarmed aircraft."

Jubilee, despite having faith in her team-mates, didn't feel so sure. The X-Men made up only one third of the residents being housed at the school at any given time. The rest were guests, students and trainees – in short, trigger-happy kids who just might view the approaching helicopter as a threat and therefore fair game for target practise. The chopper could be so much smoking wreckage before cooler heads even appeared on the scene. Being identified as an ally only after they had plummeted spectacularly from the sky was not her idea of a dramatic entrance.

Jubilee held her breath as the Black Hawk descended, her overwrought imagination conjuring a fiery death with every chop of the rotors. That they managed to land without incident on the basketball courts to the rear of the mansion came as such a surprise that she heaved a shuddering sigh, rousing Wolverine who groaned fitfully. Soothing him with a gentle touch, she peered out through the open doorway. She could see the ivy-covered west wing of the house in the near distance, but no sign of any activity, be it welcoming or otherwise. Where was everybody? Didn't they know they were here?

"Stay here. And don't move until I give the order." Magneto's voice assailed them from the cockpit, full of authority and the expectation of being obeyed.

Jubilee snorted. "He can't tell me what to do in my own home! Bossy bastard!" She grabbed one of Wolverine's arms. "To hell with this! Help me get him on his feet."

Magneto was aware of Jubilee's rebellion, but couldn't spare her the attention, it being currently focused on the half dozen or so members of the X-men who were ranged in front of the static helicopter, out of direct line-of-sight from the side doorway. As he climbed slowly out of the cockpit, he briefly wondered if she would display such bravado if she knew all her team-mates looked ready to blast the Black Hawk to kingdom come at the slightest show of danger.

He spread his arms in an age-old gesture meant to convey that he carried no weapons and, as such, posed no threat. A futile action for most mutants as their own bodies usually posed more danger than any man-made weapon, but still – it was the thought that counted. He had no desire to incite bloodshed at this stage, especially if the blood being shed was his own.

"Please. Lower your defences. I am not here to cause you harm."

Cyclops took a step forward. He was dressed casually in dark pants and a blue sweater, but his hand hovered threateningly beside his visor. "Don't come any closer, Magneto. I have you covered. Why are you here?" The boy's voice was steady despite the sheen of sweat lining his top lip.

Magneto smiled benevolently, quickly taking stock of the team members present should the situation turn nasty – Cyclops, Storm, Beast, Iceman and Colossus. Not a full team and certainly not all core members by any stretch of the imagination. Taking them down wouldn't prove too much of a problem as long as he targeted their weak points first.

"I come bearing gifts," he finally announced. Hearing Jubilee grunt as she hefted Wolverine's weight, he turned slightly, drawing the X-Men's attention to the side door of the helicopter. "I seem to have found something that belongs to you ….."

As Jubilee, Tirzah and Wolverine practically fell out of the helicopter, the looks on the faces of his enemy were priceless …

**oooOOOooo**

_Oh god, I feel like crap. _No, worse than crap, I feel like every single atom of my body has been sucked out, trampled by wildebeest and then been fitted back into place again. Every nerve is screaming in agony, my gut feels like it's full o' molten lead an' my head is ready to explode.

An' some silly bastard is tryin' to get me to stand …..

I growl agitatedly, swattin' feebly at the hands tuggin' at me, only to feel a soft touch at my brow. "Shh, Wolvie, it's okay. We're home."

_Home? _She's gotta be kiddin', right? 'Cause if we're home, that means …..

"Rogue?" I manage to croak out.

"Yeah, Wolvie, Rogue. Listen, that's Cyclops talking. Can you hear him? Oh god, Wolvie, we're home!"

_Home!_ My mate ….. Marie ….. _need her …_

Somehow I manage to roll to my side, but I can't seem to find the energy to get my feet under me. "Get me up," I growl to no one in particular. I'll crawl if I have to.

Hands suddenly grasp my arms, my shoulders – far too many to belong to just one person, so I figure that Tirzah an' the others have joined the fray – an' I am hauled unceremoniously to my feet, where I sway unsteadily. Jubilee tucks herself under one arm an' Tirzah the other an' we lurch to the doorway, with the Summers kid an' Frost hovering behind us like gawkers waitin' for an accident to happen.

"Watch this drop now," Jubilee advises me, unnecessarily. "Take it easy – _whoa!"_

Okay, maybe that information wasn't so unnecessary after all, 'cause that sudden drop sure comes as one helluva surprise to my reality challenged brain. Arms pinwheeling, we tumble out o' the doorway onto the hard tarmac o' the basketball court. My knees give out on landin' an' I am saved from introducing my face to the ground only by my pack's grim determination to keep me upright an' quick thinkin' from Frost – he grabs the waistband o' my jeans an' hauls me back.

Even in my fucked-up state, I am aware that our sudden disembarkation from the chopper has come as something of a surprise to the figures gathered in front o' Magneto. There is a moment o' stunned silence, broken only by the sound o' my own laboured breathin', an' then people are rushin' forward – surroundin' us, reachin' for us. Faces swim in an' out o' focus, their urgent words tumblin' like scattered dominoes in the fog-filled corridors o' my brain. Hands grasp at my arms an' shoulders, offering aid, but the pain in my head confuses me an' I misunderstand their intentions, wrenchin' myself away an' snarling in the faces o' my shocked team-mates. Dimly, I am aware that Tirzah an' Jubilee are still at my side, tryin' to calm me an' keep the others at bay simultaneously, an' I turn to them, pullin' them against my tortured body an' rumblin' my agitation. No one tries to separate me from my pack.

No one …

As if from a dream, a familiar face suddenly looms over Tirzah's shoulder. Adrenalin instantly surges, instinct inevitably takes over an' I draw back my fist with a snarl. A crack o' knuckles against cartilage an' Scott Summers goes down with a broken nose an' a split lip.

Pullin' free o' my pack's attendance, I stand over him with fists clenched an' my body practically vibratin' with barely controlled rage. "You sold me up the river," I snarl, angrily. "You set me up an' gave me to the enemy, you bastard."

Summers rolls to his side, clutchin' his bloody nose as silence suddenly descends around us. "I didn't have any choice. They had my brother."

"There's always a fuckin' choice!" I snap back. Said brother moves forward to help his older sibling to his feet an' it's obvious by the shocked murmurs starting to circulate around us that the implications o' my words is beginning to sink in to the other's minds. _Welcome to the real world, _I find myself thinkin'. Your esteemed leader is a backstabbin' traitor who would betray any one o' ya for his own gain.

"Yer a fuckin' moron, Summers." I confront the bastard once more as he regains his feet an' sways unsteadily in front o' me. Summers ain't no pansy, but my metal enhanced fist packs a mean punch an' I'm honestly surprised he's still conscious. "Any one o' us woulda helped ya get him back. Christ, I'da gone in myself an' got him out, no problem, if you'da just said something. But you've been itchin' to get rid o' me for years, haven't ya? Did it make ya feel good to know I was back in a cage, ya bastard? I've been to hell an' back because o' you!"

I lunge for him again, but my initial adrenalin surge is spent an' I stumble, almost going to my knees. Summers easily sidesteps my clumsy charge, only to be replaced by Colossus, who arrests my forward motion with a solid chest an' a restraining arm.

"_N'yet, tovarish, _you will not damage our leader. We are X-men - we do not fight among ourselves."

"I'll fuckin' kill him, if I get my hands on him," I gasp out, but the fight has gone out o' me an' I sag wearily against the Russian's huge body. To my intense mortification, he suddenly stoops an' lifts me into his arms like a girl. Of all the X-Men, Colossus is the only one capable o' liftin' me an' the added weight o' my adamantium – our Fastball Special is known the length an' breadth o' the Danger Room – but being carried like this brings a serious dent to my pride. I try to fight him – my resolve to stand on my own two feet is strong, but my body, the traitorous bastard, is weak – an' my struggles are ineffectual against his superior brawn.

"Let's get him inside." This from Storm, who has moved closer. I let my head tip back with a groan as my personal carrier begins to walk, jolting me despite his care. "Jubilee, what is wrong with him?"

"God, where do I start?" The kid's voice sounds close – she must be right at the Russian's arm. A quick glance confirms that Tirzah is at my feet. "He's been pumped full of Carbonadium ….."

A spasm runs through me at this point an' I think I musta passed out 'cause the next thing I know we are entering the school foyer an' the Beast is peerin' down at me, anxiously. At least, I think it's the Beast – all I can see is a big blue blur.

" …. suffering from heavy metal poisoning. He'll die if we don't – ah, Wolverine! Back with us, I see!"

"Put me down," I croak. "Don't let 'em see me like this."

For a brief moment, the big Russian's arms tighten around me as if expectin' some kinda rebellion on my part, but McCoy shakes his head an' puts a blue-furred paw on the guy's shoulder. "Let him down," he says, softly.

Colossus allows my legs to descend to the floor, although he keeps a firm arm around my waist, a fact I am grateful for despite my dented pride. My feet won't move o' their own volition anymore an' only his hold on me is keepin' me upright an' mobile. Skillfully, he manages to make it look as though I am doing all the work an' he's only providing an assist, but we both know what would happen if he were to let go o' me.

As we make our way to the elevator, there's a poundin' o' feet from the direction o' the stairs, heralding the inevitable arrival o' the students. It's obvious they were told to keep to their rooms while the situation was assessed by the senior team members but now, with the immediate danger over, they've gathered to check out the proceedings for themselves. Even though my hearin' is up shit-creek without a paddle, I can still pick out the startled gasps as they realise who we are an' what's happening. My name an' Magneto's are bounced back an' forth.

I deliriously scan the faces for that of my mate, cursing silently as they all seem to blur into one. _Where is she?_ Surely she would have come to me by now if she were here? I crane my neck around as Colossus guides me into the elevator, almost tripping over my own unresponsive feet in my efforts to see down the corridor. "Rogue …"

"She is not here, Logan." This from Storm, who steps gracefully into the elevator an' places a gentle hand on my arm. "She is out shopping with Kitty and ….. She is with Kitty. But we will call her back as soon as we have settled you in the Med-Lab and treated your wounds."

I am not so far gone that I miss Storm's self-correction an' I glance quizzically at the weather-witch only to see her turn quickly away an' feign a sudden interest in Summers' split lip. _She's hidin' something, I know it ….._

But what? I could care less than my mate has gone shopping – I want her to be happy an' if blowin' her hard-earned dollars floats her boat then I'm all for it. But something about Storm's tone has set all my alarm bells buzzin'. There's more to my mate's outing than meets the eye.

I groan as the elevator doors close, shuttin' out the gawkers an' those who don't need to make the trip down. Magneto an' Mystique are still with us, being eyed warily by the senior members o' the team now that we're in an enclosed metal space, but those two are the least o' my problems. My gut is burnin' – the urge to throw up is overwhelming – an' suddenly I can't breathe. Gaspin' for air like a stranded fish, I sag against the Russian as my heartrate goes into overdrive.

"He's going into cardiac-arrest!" The Beast's voice seems to come from the farthest end of a long dark tunnel, distorted by distance an' my brain's inability to process the words. My eyelids flutter as I struggle to keep them open, but I know I am fightin' a losin' battle – my body is shutting down ….

Suddenly becoming a dead weight in the Russian's arms, I am unconscious before the elevator completes its downward journey …..

**oooOOOooo**

"It's over."

Doctor Kinney looked up from her computer terminal as General Roberts stalked into her lab, his face streaked with blood and dirt, hands still clutching the M4 assault rifle he favoured. Two guards followed behind, one limping slightly, but both looking as though they were prepared to take no further bullshit from anyone.

"I assume our subjects got clean away?" Kinney pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, giving the General her full attention. He demanded nothing less.

"You are correct," responded Roberts, sourly. He moved across the lab towards her, giving the four telepaths stationed in each corner of the lab a cursory glance before coming to a halt in front of the incubator. Much larger in size than the original, its opaque glass canopy concealed the precious life growing within, although the honour guard of monitors relayed every movement and relevant detail on their screens. It was imperative that they continued to do so. History was being made. Future generations of living weapons depended on the results of this experiment.

"It is fortunate your work was not interrupted," he declared to Kinney, needlessly. "If your ideas fell into enemy hands, our operation would be seriously compromised."

Kinney didn't need to be reminded of this, but she nodded anyway, wisely keeping her opinions to herself. "Our telepaths did their job well," she informed him. "At one point, the attacking forces were right outside our door, but they stopped them from even seeing it."

"Do they know what you are trying to achieve here?" Roberts eyed each of the telepaths in turn. Several began to fidget nervously.

Kinney shrugged. "They are telepaths," she said, simply. "How can they not know?"

"Then I will have them silenced at once."

At his words, two of the telepaths – both female – bolted for the door, but they were quickly rounded up and subdued by Roberts' men. The remaining two were dragged from their corners and herded from the lab with the others, their faces white with fear and their pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Kinney, as the lab door closed behind the guards and the condemned mutants. She had no love for the race, but hated to lose valuable test subjects.

"As I've said, we can't run the risk of your work falling into enemy hands." Roberts turned back to the incubator, unconcerned by the deaths he had just ordered. He ran his fingers along the canopy. "How much longer until we see positive results?"

"If the current growth rate continues, my creation will be a fully-formed adult within a week." Kinney was proud of her work and it showed in the tone of her voice. "She has already tested positive for the X-Gene."

Roberts' however, found concern in one particular detail. "She?" he asked, his face darkening.

"Yes. My creation is female."

"I would have preferred a male."

"Not possible. For some reason, the matrix refused to amalgamate." Sensing Roberts' disapproval, she quickly engaged damage limitation. "A male could potentially be more powerful, I agree, but I suspect a female will be more easily controlled."

Roberts nodded thoughtfully, his annoyance forestalled. He seemed to be mulling something over and Kinney waited patiently, knowing better than to interrupt or offer an opinion. She did not have to wait long.

"You can repeat this procedure?" he asked forcefully, denying her to give him the wrong answer.

Kinney, fortunately, had the right one. "Many times. As long as we have Wolverine and the eggs and DNA from a viable female. Neither of which are in our possession at this time."

She regretted the words as soon as she uttered them, but Roberts merely waved a hand as though this were an inconsequential detail in the scheme of things. He turned to face her full-on, his expression sly. "If you can do this with a potentially viable female, imagine what you could do with Wolverine and his _mate"._

Despite her resolve, Kinney gasped in surprise. "His ….. his _mate? _He has one? How can you be sure?"

Roberts shrugged. "Creed has dropped hints. Seems he's been spending time with the little chit we dragged in with the feral – the one you took your DNA sample from. She's not the feral's mate – but she may know the one who is."

"My god! Do you know what this means?" Kinney's eyes shone maniacally as she considered the possibilities. "If we had Wolverine _and _the female he is bonded to, I could breed a whole army of powered weapons, subservient to our every whim!"

"Indeed." Roberts stroked the incubator's canopy, lovingly. "Which is why I intend to retrieve Wolverine for you. Him _and_ the female he calls his mate …"

**NEXT: ** The Rogue's return causes mayhem!


	33. Heart's Filthy Lesson

****Hello, everyone! Once again, so sorry for the delay on my uploads, but hopefully things should start to improve now! I'm so grateful to everyone for hanging around and being so patient - (you _are_ all still around, aren't you?) - I really don't deserve you, but you're my one reason for continuing to write and keeping myself sane!

If anyone is following my other stories, two new chapters to Captive Rage will be uploaded very soon!

Lots of reviewers for the last chapter - and several newbies! Hi to all - I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! **Inachis10, Mrs. Marauder, moviemom44, BoneRanger89, PhOenIxJaDeBLaCK, Romantic Journalist, KeitorinNara, Lexi-Krisitne, queenofcamelot123, Jeanniebird, Mrstrentreznor, alexmonalisa, nileena, Crazy-InsanNe995, Wolvie'sBiggestFan, I-am-the-Wolf,** and** notashamedtobe! **If I missed anyone who reviewed the last chapter, I apologise most sincerely and will try to get you next time around! Also, just a quick point for those of you with mixed capitals in your ID - I do try to get your ID's correct, but if I spell them wrong please don't hold it against me!

Anyway, enough from me, I think you've been waiting quite long enough for this next installment without me nattering on! Oh, for anyone who is interested, can I just point out that the chapter title comes from a song by David Bowie! Nuff said: Onward!

**ooXoo**

**33. Heart's Filthy Lesson**

"Let me through! Ah've gotta see him!"

Jubilee jerked around on the hospital bed at the sound of the familiar voice, turning just in time to see the med-lab doors open to allow a flushed and obviously frantic Rogue to enter. The curious group of students gathered out in the hallway craned their necks in the vain hope of seeing something interesting before the double doors rumbled closed once more, cutting off their view and leaving Rogue and her companion isolated before them, perfectly outlined by the stylised X etched into the metal, like performers caught in a bizarre spotlight. The young mutant cast around the med-lab urgently, seeking two particular faces among those of her team-mates gathered within.

"Rogue!" Jubilee swung her legs off the side of the bed, waving to attract her friend's attention.

"Oh m'ah god! Jubilee!" Rogue almost tripped in her haste to reach her friend's side, dragging the firecracker into a fierce hug. "They told me you were dead! Oh god, Jubilee, ah thought ah'd lost you!"

"It's okay, Rogue. I'm here now. I'm fine." Jubilee didn't try to stop the tears that welled up in her eyes, letting them run freely down her cheeks with the joy of seeing her friend once more. However….. "You think you could ease up a bit, Roguey? You're squishing me."

"Christ, ah'm sorry!" Rogue released her embrace but kept hold of her friend's hand, reluctant to let go and risk losing her again. "There's so much ah want to say – _need_ to say – ah don't know where to start".

"I know. God, I'm all choked up …." The two girls embraced once more, relying on the unspoken word to convey their depth of feeling for each other and their relief at being reunited. But when they parted, there was a question in Rogue's eyes.

"Logan …..?"

Jubilee found herself glancing towards the shatterproof window of the isolation ward. "He's here, Rogue, but ….." Her eyes slid past those of her friend to settle on her companion.

Remy LeBeau coughed discreetly and moved away to confer with Storm, who was checking some blood samples for Henry.

"Jubilee?" Rogue clutched her friend's hand, tightly. "Is Logan okay?"

"No, he's not, Rogue. He's ….." She sighed and hopped down off the bed. "I think you'd better see for yourself."

Keeping hold of her friend's hand, she led the way to the window, knowing that nothing she could ever say would prepare Rogue for the seriousness of her lover's condition. All she could do was be there for her – a shoulder to cry on when the time came to say goodbye.

Her heart wept as Rogue stepped up the window, her friend's sudden gasp betraying her shock at seeing all those wires and sensors attached to a body they had come to regard as indestructible. Beneath the pristine white sheet, Logan's chest rose and fell with startling irregularity, as each breath counted out the time he had left.

"He's been poisoned," Jubilee found herself explaining, her voice carrying no further than the tiny space they had claimed for themselves in front of the window. "They did it deliberately – to keep him docile."

"Logan ….." Rogue's voice was barely a whisper. She placed a hand on the glass, a single fat tear rolling down her cheek. "Jubilee, is he ….. will he survive?"

Jubilee didn't want to lie and so she stayed silent, biting her bottom lip in an effort not to cry. The words weren't necessary – Rogue understood immediately that her mate's time was limited.

"Ah've got to see him," she declared, forcefully. "There are things ah need to say before he …." She broke off, unable to say the words. "There are things he needs to know."

She turned to the door, but Jubilee grabbed her arm. "No, Rogue! You can't go in there!"

"An' why not?" Rogue shook off her friend's hand and turned, her face hard. "Dammit, Jubilee, he _needs _me. Ah need _him."_

"His healing factor's down," explained Jubilee, trying to sound reasonable and yet forceful at the same time. "If you go in there and you're carrying something, you'll only make matters worse."

"Dammit, Jubilee, that's a crock o' shit, an' you know it!" Rogue's accent changed slightly as the feral within her came to the fore. "There's already someone in there with him!" She jabbed a finger at the glass. "Who the hell's _that?"_

Jubilee didn't need to follow that pointing finger to know who her friend had just spotted. "That's Tirzah. We rescued her from the bad guys. Logan won't settle unless one of us is in there with him."

Too late she realised she'd said the wrong thing.

"He won't settle?" Rogue clenched her fists in anger and, for one insane moment, Jubilee thought she was actually going to throw a punch. She braced herself for the imagined blow, but Rogue had thoughts only for Logan. "Christ, Jubes, doesn't that tell you how much he needs me?" She glanced around the med-lab anxiously, seeking someone – anyone – to take her side, but Scott looked away, unable to meet her eyes, and Storm's expression was sad, unable to help. A soldier, sitting on a nearby bed and unbeknown to her, looked as though he was about to speak, but changed his mind and shrugged helplessly.

All but whimpering in panic, Rogue turned back to the window, willing her mate to turn his head and see her there – to know she had come for him – but he remained still and Rogue's heart broke a little more with every laboured breath he took.

The door to a small anti-room suddenly opened, admitting Henry, who hurried to Logan's bedside bearing a syringe. Sensing a ray of hope, Rogue waved and succeeded in attracting his attention. He immediately trotted to the door and opened it.

"Rogue! I am so pleased Ororo managed to reach you. I fear Logan hasn't much time left."

The distraught youngster pushed at the door, desperate to get in, but Henry's bulk blocked her way. "I have to see him. Please, Henry. Let me go to him."

The Beast shook his shaggy head. "I really don't think that would be wise, my dear. Logan is very ill."

Rogue silenced him by placing a hand on his wrist. Unseen by Jubilee, she rested her other hand on her stomach. "Ah have to see him, Henry. You understand."

Henry scrunched up his nose as he considered her words for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Perhaps it is for the best – he has been calling for you, after all. But no more than five minutes, yes? He is very weak and I don't want you to tax the strength he has left."

He stepped back, allowing her to slide past him into the room. Despite her eagerness to reunite with her mate and lover, she was hesitant, unsure of how to deal with his worsening condition, but the solid presence of Jubilee at her back reassured her, strengthening her resolve. Whatever happened now, she knew she had to be courageous and strong – strong for Logan, who probably already knew he was dying, and strong within, so that she wouldn't break down in front of him and make matters worse.

But most of all, she had to be strong for their unborn child …..

**oooOOOooo**

**Wolverine:**

I feel as though I'm floating – cast adrift on the tide of my life, at the mercy o' the currents an' the winds o' change. I'm being carried away from the ones I love an' I don't wanna go. I'm fightin' ….. I'm fightin' so hard that I can almost hear the battle for life going on in my body, between the poison that's tryin' to take me down an' the healing factor that keeps draggin' me back from the brink.

But this time, I think this is a battle I'm not gonna win.

It's funny really. There have been times in my life when I've actively sought death – when I've flung myself into danger with no thought for life or limb, welcoming oblivion's icy embrace. People thought me indestructible. Or crazy. Sometimes both. Perhaps they were right. But they couldn't know of the pain and heartache I have lived with every second o' my life – how I've fought the darker side of myself that sometimes threatened to tear me apart and how I wanted it all to end. But now that the time has finally come to punch my card, I find that I don't wanna go.

_I wanna live …._

I can hear the electronic noises o' the machines around me, marking out the time as they try to grant my wish. I know I am wired up with sensors an' drips, an' I can feel the reassuring weight of a hand on mine. Tirzah. She an' Jubilee have been taking it in turns to sit with me. I wish I could see her, but my vision is failing an' everything is just a dark blur now.

_I don't think I've got much time left ….._

Regrets? Well, yeah, I've got a few o' those. Stoppin' at that bar that night, for one. Wrong bar, wrong time – wrong fuckin' lifetime! Stoppin' to break a long journey with a welcome beer seemed like a good idea at the time, but how was I to know that I was being watched? That I'd been followed for months an' thoroughly checked out before being snatched from that bar an' being carried off to be made into a walking weapon. Pain? You don't know pain until you've had hot metal bonded to your skeleton – until you've had your memory wiped so many times you don't know up from down anymore. The adamantium makes me the man that I am, but would I trade it all away if given the chance?

_Yes. I would._

And why? For the chance to be with Marie just one more time…

I guess it's true what they say – that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. I haven't thought about that night at the bar in years – an' ain't that just a crock o' shit? I shoulda known that my mind would dredge up all the bad things in my life. But there have been some good things too – namely Rogue. I'm waitin' for my mind's eye to remind me o' our best times together.

An' if I concentrate – an' really focus my senses – I'm sure I can already pick up traces o' my mate's scent …..

"Logan? ….."

Christ, I'm hearing things now. I can't bear it. Don't torture me like this.

"Logan, it's me, sweetheart. Can you open your eyes?"

I feel Tirzah's hand lift and another take its place, warm an' soft, like the touch o' velvet. Could it be …..?

_My Marie ….._

It's torture to open my eyes, but somehow I force the lids to rise an' I tilt my head to look at the blurry figure standing beside my bed. The finer details are shot to hell an' back, but I'd know that mane o' glossy hair anywhere.

"Marie …?"

My voice is worse than a croak an' I cough into the oxygen mask covering my face. She soothes me with a hand to my cheek an' I use the last o' my energy to raise my free hand an' take hers in mine. My heart leaps as our fingers entwine. _Mine…..._

"Off." I nudge her hand towards the oxygen mask. Fuck this pure air, I need to breathe my mate – to reaffirm our bond an' ground myself in her reality. This may be our last moment together an' if I'm gonna go I need to take her with me, to take her essence down into my very soul.

I see her glance towards someone at the foot o' the bed – Henry, I'm guessing – an' then she is leaning forward, gently removing the oxygen mask from my face, an' I grasp her hand an' bring it to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. I hear Marie gasp softly an' she moves closer, stroking my hair an' making soft cooing sounds that would set my teeth on edge if this were anyone else. But this is Marie – my mate – an' I would fetch the moon for her, if she asked me to.

"Logan … oh god, Logan, there's so much ah need to tell you …"

Marie presses a kiss to my forehead an' just for a moment I catch the faintest trace o' ….. something. She begins to murmur soft words in my ear, words meant for me alone, but I can't concentrate ….. can't focus. Something is wrong. The scent wafts over me again – strangely familiar – an' I breathe it deep, sifting the traces, searching my memory for the face that goes with it.

An' suddenly I know ….

Anger, shame an' the sense o' betrayal give me strength an' I push Marie away from me with a snarl, dislodging sensors an' needles from my arms. Henry immediately rushes forward to relocate them an' Marie – Rogue – places her hand on my chest in an effort to calm me.

"Get her away from me!" My voice is rough but my intent is clear an' there is a sudden shocked silence as my words register. The void is filled by the frantic beeping o' the heart monitor as my vitals suddenly go crazy.

"Logan, my friend, calm yourself. This is Rogue …. _your _Rogue." Henry makes a valiant effort to restore the peace, but I twist away from his firm but gentle hands to glare right at the woman who has betrayed my trust with another.

"Get. Her. Away. From me."

The penny suddenly drops an' I see her hand fly to her mouth at the shock, but even so she tries to reach for me.

"Logan, I …. I've waited so long for you to come home. I'm ….."

"_Don't touch me!" _I twist away from her hand so violently that I almost send the IV stand flyin'. My heart is pounding an' there's a red haze beginning to glaze over what's left o' my vision, but all I can see is the betrayal that's standing right in front o' me. "Go back to your lover, Rogue. Go back to LeBeau – his stink is all over you!"

Rogue gasps in horror. "But …."

"I think you'd better go, Rogue." Henry steps between us, shielding her from my eyes, but I know she is tryin' to see around him – to assure me she's always been faithful. I don't need her lies – LeBeau's scent goes too deep. Too deep for just a casual acquaintance. When did she realise I wasn't coming back, I wonder? How many nights has she lain in his arms while I was being tortured in that fuckin' cell?

A convulsion suddenly hits me, my teeth clenching tight as my body bucks on the bed like a stranded fish. Henry goes into full-on doctor mode, administering something from a syringe that does absolutely nothing to stop the spasms. As I gasp for breath, I see Rogue take a step back, both hands covering her mouth as if to hold back a scream, an' then she turns an' runs from the room, taking all my hopes an' dreams with her.

Her betrayal cuts like a knife. I was a fool to think that I could ever find love an' companionship with someone who truly loved me for what I am, an' not for what they wanted me to be. I'm a loner – always have been, always will be.

To the day I die.

The pain in my heart has nothin' to do with the poison coursing through it …

**oooOOOooo**

Erik Lensherr paused outside the bedroom door of a woman to whom he'd only had the briefest of acquaintances. Her heartfelt sobs sounded from within, prompting him to purse his lips and shake his head, sadly. Had this been another time and place, he would have gone to her – comforted her and dried her tears. But he was only a visitor here – and a barely trusted one at that – so it would be up to others to ease her pain. Besides, he was better suited to causing it than to easing it.

So the girl was the Wolverine's mate? Lensherr tutted softly to himself – well, he certainly hadn't seen that one coming and he prided himself on usually being one step ahead of everyone else, particularly those he counted among his enemies. He would have to be more diligent in future.

Shifting his cape behind him, he moved away from the door and carried on down the hallway, heading for the stairs. He knew his presence was required elsewhere – the summons to attend Charles Xavier in his private study had been presented to him by a breathless and awestruck young student at least thirty minutes ago. But Lensherr had never been one to be at the beck and call of another, and so he had taken his time in answering the summons by going out of his way to walk down every hallway except the one on which Xavier's study was located. It was a childish thing to do, and certainly beneath a man of such bearing as he, but he still took a certain perverse pleasure in keeping his host waiting, especially as he had a faint suspicion as to the reason for the summons. Yes, he and Xavier had been friends once – even team-mates – but that had been a long time ago and Lensherr seriously doubted that his old adversary simply wished to catch up on old times over a leisurely cup of tea. Xavier wanted something, he was sure of it, and he suspected it had something to do with the feral currently fighting for his life in the med-lab.

After descending the stairs, Lensherr found himself once again in the main hallway and realised he couldn't put off the reunion any longer. It was time to take the bull by the horns and put his theory to the test. As he stalked down the hallway with his head held high, he felt calm and strangely optimistic.

Reaching Xavier's study, he didn't bother to knock but just walked straight in, confident that his host would have been apprised of his imminent arrival. He was under no illusions that he was being allowed to wander the mansion so freely and go unmonitored, be it of an organic or mechanical nature. This had been his home for a brief period of time, but he had turned his back on the hospitality offered and, while the flag of truce seemed to have been briefly raised between them, Lensherr knew his old adversary was no fool.

Xavier looked up from his desk as Lensherr entered and graciously indicated to the plush chair set before it. "Erik. Thank you for coming. Please – sit and be comfortable."

Lensherr moved easily across the room and placed his helmet on the desk before sitting. The action was deliberate, indicating to Xavier that he had nothing to hide. It was also a dare, of sorts. Would Xavier take the bait?

The Professor merely smiled knowingly and held out his hand to a silver tray, upon which sat a china teapot and two cups. "Would you care to take tea?"

Lensherr chose not to answer. "Your little empire is falling around your ears, Charles," he said instead. "Your pet berserker is dying, the team's vaunted leader is in disgrace for betraying him to the enemy and my young friend the Rogue is even now weeping for her lover. Hardly the legacy you hoped to build, is it?"

Xavier sighed, softly. "I see the school grapevine still works, even for you, Erik," he stated, without malice.

Lensherr shrugged, easily. "I was a part of it once."

Xavier inclined his head at the reminder and wheeled out from behind his desk, putting himself on an equal footing with his old friend. "I thank you for bringing my X-Men back to me, Erik. I regret not being here to welcome you – I was in town on business – but I trust you have been treated well?"

"Like a prodigal son." Lensherr leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we, Charles? You want something from me or we would not be sitting here like this."

Xavier nodded, thoughtfully. "You know you're the only one who can help him, don't you, Erik?" he said, finally. "Carbonadium is metal based ….."

"The feral." It wasn't a question, just a statement of fact.

"The feral, as you call him, is one of my X-Men, Erik, and I would like him to remain so." Xavier pushed his chair closer, desperately seeking what only his mortal enemy could give – the means to save a man's life. "Please, Erik. You're his only hope."

"You don't have to beg, Charles." Lensherr stood abruptly and snatched up his helmet. "I will do it for you, old friend, and for no one else."

He turned and strode for the door.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Charles." Lensherr paused at the door without looking back.

"You wouldn't have offered your help if I hadn't asked. Would you?"

Lensherr opened the door and moved out into the hallway before sending the answer over his shoulder.

"No, Charles. I wouldn't."

**NEXT: **To save a feral's life!


End file.
